Her Majesty's Secret Service
by 8of9
Summary: John Watson was not the first Omega to serve in the army as a medic to a unit of Alpha Marines, but he gave his service a very *personal* touch. Omegaverse with Omega!John, mostly pre-canon with eventual Johnlock. Trigger warnings for dub-con (because let's face it the whole Omegaverse is pretty dubious regarding consent) and for explicit m/m action because everyone loves John!
1. Chapter 1

**Her Majesty's Secret Service**

_John Watson was not the first Omega to serve in the army as a medic to a unit of Alpha Marines, but he gave his service a very… personal touch. Omegaverse with Omega!John. Trigger warnings for dub-con (because let's face it the whole Omegaverse is pretty dubious regarding consent issues) and for explicit m/m sexytimes because everyone loves John! I'll also add that this is my fantasy world where sex is for fun and you can't catch anything from it – in real life please practise safe sex._

* * *

The first time it happened by accident.

Lt. John Watson had already put up the "no service" sign on the door of the First Aid station, and was slowly packing everything away for his four-day leave. Not that he was going anywhere, of course. Even if Afghanistan had boasted vacation spots worth visiting he was never going to see them. "Personal leave" (which everyone knew was just a euphemism for "heat leave") did not allow him to go more than a few kilometres from the army base, and in fact he would probably spend it all in his own quarters anyway. With his favourite dildo. Not as good as being bent over and taken by a real Alpha, but the best he could manage out here in the desert.

He rather resented having to take the time off for his biological needs, but he knew it would create havoc in the unit if he tried to continue to work and offer medical care while in heat. His particular unit was a very highly trained and finely tuned network exclusively of Alpha Marines. He was very proud of their work and had no thought of disrupting their unit cohesion by his presence in heat. The last thing he wanted was to see his unit at each other's throats fighting over him. At least the leave was granted in excess of his other leave, so he was not burning up his sick leave days every time he had his heats. The Omega Anti-Discrimination laws had seen to that.

So here he was, rolling bandages and packing away IV lines in strict military order. This way if anyone else needed to access any of the equipment it would all be exactly where it should be. He had cut it rather fine this month. He could already feel himself beginning to sweat as pre-heat hormones started to flush through his body. Soon, he promised himself. Just finish sorting out the plaster trolley and then go have a lovely long shower. His shirt was starting to stick to his skin already. Definitely a shower first.

He checked the time: only 16:20. Damn, another forty minutes before he could close up completely and head back to his quarters. Would anyone mind if he knocked off early? Probably not, under the circumstances, but what if someone urgently needed a medic and he was not to be found? His replacement would not be available through the paging system until 17:00.

He sighed and started collecting the loose papers on the desk for filing. Not really his job, but he needed something to distract himself from the uncomfortable damp stickiness starting to collect under his arms and in the small of his back.

Still only 16:25 and John suddenly decided he could not stand it a moment longer. He would never desert his post, but there was nothing in the regulations about taking off his shirt early, was there? Dammit, even if there was something about "proper uniform" in the book he would be very unlucky to get caught and prosecuted in the last thirty-five minutes of his shift before a heat leave. He stripped off his shirt and sighed with relief at the cool air across his torso. Usually the heat in Afghanistan was not too much of a bother for him, except at this time of the month. He kicked off his shoes and socks as well, for good measure.

More comfortable than he had been all day, John started whistling as he put away the last few clean instruments and restocked the IV supplies. He was interrupted by a brisk military double knock at the door and the unit's assistant medic poked his head around the door frame.

"John, if you haven't left yet, Tony just wanted a…" Bill trailed off as he caught sight and scent of John. Half-naked, sweating John already flushed with heat hormones. Bill closed his mouth and swallowed audibly.

John turned and looked over his shoulder. "Sorry Bill, I didn't catch that. What does Tony need? Not another bloody hangover cure. Tell him this is the last time and next time I expect him to buy his own bloody paracetamol." John caught up a box out the trolley he was sorting and pitched it underhand to Bill where he was standing in the doorway. It bounced off his chest as Bill made no move to catch it.

"Hey, Bill." John frowned and started to make his way across the room. "What's the matter? Are you OK?"

"Oh God, John." Bill suddenly put up both hands in a warding-off motion. "Do you know what you look like, what you smell like? You should have requested urgent relief for your heat leave."

John shrugged. "It's only another half an hour. It'll be fine."

Bill stepped fully into the First Aid station, closing the door behind himself and leaning against it. "What will be fine, John? You might be fine, but what about me?" He looked at the ceiling and licked his lips. "You smell pretty damn fine, John. When are you off duty, say again?"

John sidled uneasily a bit further away from Bill, who was still avoiding his eyes. "I'm off in another twenty minutes, actually. But if you are suggesting… helping me through this heat, I'm not sure that's a good idea. Might be a problem for unit cohesion if it became known that we were…"

"We could be..." Bill suddenly locked his eyes on John's and started prowling across the room, never letting his gaze waver. John felt a chill in his gut. This was no longer his friend and colleague in the room, this was an aroused Alpha who was stalking him.

"Bill! Bill, think of the unit! This is me, John, your drinking buddy, your mate…" Too late, John realized his unfortunate choice of words had turned a delicate situation into a disaster.

"My mate, yes…" hissed Bill, and sprang.

All the Alphas of the unit were bigger and stronger than John. They were all soldiers trained in hand to hand combat, but Bill topped him by twenty centimetres and thirty kilos of pure muscle. Before John could blink twice he was pinned against the desk. This could only end one way.

John shrugged internally and let his Omega-self rise to the surface. If this was going to happen, he might as well enjoy it. He hadn't been royally buggered for a long time, and if Bill's crushing arms around him were any indication this was going to be an excitingly rough shag.

John tilted his head forward to allow Bill to scent the nape of his neck, and to signal his submission. He felt the imprisoning embrace relax slightly as the message was received, and Bill's nips along his shoulder and neck softened into gentler bites and kisses. The hard pressure of an Alpha cock into his lower back was no less urgent though.

"Let me just slip these off, love." John whispered over his shoulder, as he quickly unfastened his belt and trousers. In one smooth move he slid everything off the lower half of his body, giving thanks that he was already barefoot. In this mood Bill was likely to rip his fatigues right off him and that would require difficult explanations when he requisitioned a new pair.

In less than a second after he was naked Bill was plastered all over his back again. Bill's hands wandering down his front to tease his nipples and stroke his little Omega cock. Bill was crooning in his ear, "Does that feel good, John? I'm going to make you so happy, John. Tell me you want me to make it good for you…"

John rolled his eyes a little, knowing that Bill couldn't see. Even in the middle of a heat-driven crazed sexual encounter the good old Alpha ego always needed a little stroking. Still, the stroking that Bill was giving him in return was putting John in a _very_ good mood, and his heat was rising fast now to match the eagerness of the Alpha behind him. Bill's pheromones and bites were causing John's hormones to tip into full heat sooner than he might have if he had been alone in his room. It was lucky John had already removed his trousers or they would be hopelessly soaked with the natural lubricant which was already pouring out of him. Actually, Bill's trousers were getting very wet but he did not seem to be bothered by it.

"Yes, love, I'm so wet for you," John replied, "Feel how eager I am for you. I want you inside me, filling me, taking me." He wriggled his hips against Bill and felt a thrust in return.

"Right here, John? Are you ready for me to take you right now? Please let me take you right now." Bill was tugging at his belt with one hand but was unable to work the buckle without taking his other hand off John's cock. Obviously he had no intention of doing that. Finally he just yanked the belt and the buckle gave way, then Bill was shoving down his trousers.

John did a quick scan around the room. He had no particular objection to being taken over the desk, but there was an examination bed only a few metres away which would be a lot more comfortable. He decided to try for it. Worst case scenario they might end up on the floor half-way between.

"Bill? Honey? This desk is a bit sharp against my hips." John put a little whine into his voice. "If you want me to enjoy it more, maybe the bed?"

Bill growled and grasping John by the hips, turned and lifted him bodily and carried him across the room to the bed. He dropped John on his back and stood over him looking down for a moment, while John struggled to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him as he landed.

Then there was no time to breathe, or even to think. Bill was all over him biting, licking, sucking. His hands were teasing and stroking until John was overwhelmed by a sensual tornado. All he was aware of was that he was still empty, his desperate longing to be filled yet unsatisfied.

John finally managed to focus enough to gasp out, "Take me now! Fill me with your Alpha cock, I need it!" He pulled his knees up and apart, exposing his slick entrance and was immediately rewarded with the sensation of Bill's erection prodding at him. John took a deep breath and allowed his knees to sag apart as widely as possible and with a smooth thrust of his pelvis Bill slid deeply into him. They both groaned as they fitted together, perfectly matched. John wrapped his legs around Bill's waist and pulled him deeper into his body, even as Bill slid his hands behind John's shoulders to press their chests together. John bit down on Bill's shoulder to encourage him and Bill bucked his hips in response.

"Oh God, yes, just like that," panted John as every thrust of Bill's cock pushed deeply against his sweet spot. It was perfection and John abandoned himself to the mounting waves of hot pleasure washing over his whole body. It was glorious and John wanted it to go on forever, even while he could feel the spectacular ending rapidly approaching.

Bill was growling deep in his chest and the vibrations through John's body were turning him on so much he could hardly stand it. Then Bill reached down into the narrow sweaty space between their bodies and pumped John's shaft firmly up and down the entire length and John was screaming and spurting all over both of them. His internal muscles clamped down on Bill's cock with rapid pulsing squeezes and Bill was groaning and filling John with his seed. He collapsed on top of John even as his knot inflated, binding them together and creating a delightful pressure against John's internal walls. They held and stroked one another as their breathing slowed and they relaxed in a satisfied, sweaty pile.

Just then the door slammed open and two Alpha marines burst in shouting, "John! John are you all right? We heard you screaming!" Captain Spiers and Lt. Wright gave one horrified glance at the scene of debauchery in front of them and started trying to wrench Bill off John.

"Ow! Wait!" yelled John. "We're knotted together, just give us a minute willya? I'm fine, it's all fine." John winked at them over Bill's shoulder. "More than fine, actually. My heat has started and Bill was just helping me."

Captain Spiers' eyes widened and his nostrils flared as he scented John's heat pheromones and the smell of sweat and semen in the small room.

"I'm off-duty now, you know." John added in a smaller voice. "You don't think this will be bad for the unit, do you Captain? There won't be any jealousy because of this?" John frowned anxiously.

The Captain nuzzled John's neck and kissed his way along John's jaw to his mouth. He kissed John and thoroughly explored his mouth before replying, "I don't see why anyone should be jealous when there is plenty of you to go around."

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_Yeah, OK, I know I needed another WIP like a hole in the head. I haven't forgotten any of my other stories, but I just love the Omegaverse and this idea just grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go until I'd written the first three chapters. This will be quite an extended multi-chapter fic I think, so please follow and please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 2.**

The second time it happened by order of the Captain. More or less.

Bill's knot finally deflated and he slipped out of John's body to curl up on the examination couch and go to sleep. The intensity of the unexpected heat-driven mating had completely exhausted him. John sighed at the loss of contact.

Captain Spiers and Lt. Wright had been quietly talking together on the other side of the room, but the Captain heard John's sigh. He came over and lifted John up, gently cradling him against his body.

"Mmm," murmured John. "I'm not sure I'm quite ready to go again yet, Cap."

"Shhh, of course not. Let us take care of you, John." Waving Lt. Wright ahead of him into the bathroom, the Captain carried John to the shower and carefully placed him on his feet in the cubicle. "Matthew, turn on the water," he instructed the lieutenant. "Can you stand, John?" he asked tenderly.

"Not sure," mumbled John, leaning against the shower wall. He closed his eyes and waited for someone to start the shower. A shower would be lovely, he was so hot and sticky, but he was so sleepy he didn't think he could start it himself. He thought he heard someone turning on taps and adjusting the water temperature but he was out of the spray and too tired to move. He felt strong arms supporting him from behind and turning him around. He cracked open one eyelid to confirm his impressions. Oh, it _was_ the Captain, stripped naked, holding him in a strong embrace and encouraging him to cuddle into his broad chest. That was unexpected. So it must be Lt. Wright adjusting the shower and washing his back.

John relaxed into the warm water and let four strong hands wash him all over. The Captain held him and turned him as required, and kept the water from running into his face when they washed his hair. Lt. Wright had also peeled out of his uniform and joined them under the spray in order to wash John very carefully and in almost embarrassing detail. They washed his back including paying careful attention to the slightly puffy skin around his entrance, then turned him around and washed all down his front as well.

When they were finished the Captain handed him out to the Lieutenant and they dried him off. The Captain picked him up again and carried him back into the main room of the First Aid station. While they were showering someone had laid out a double bedroll on the floor between the examination couches. John slid down into it with the Captain and the Lieutenant on either side of him. He had never felt so clean, so warm and so cared-for. He snuggled into the Captain's side and drifted off to sleep.

John woke to hear quiet voices murmuring across him. He listened intermittently but could not bring himself to concentrate enough to follow the details of the conversation. The Captain and the Lieutenant appeared to be discussing logistics for the next set of exercises they were planning for the unit. As soon as the Captain became aware John was conscious he broke off the impromptu planning session.

"John? Are you awake?" he asked. "I don't want to rush you at all if you are tired, but I'm going to have to head off to the Colonel's office for a briefing in about half an hour. I'll call in Jack and Ben so you won't be alone, as I'm afraid I'm going to need to take Matthew with me, but I was rather hoping you might feel up to some kisses before I leave."

"Leave?" whined John, forcing himself further awake. "For how long?" He didn't give the Captain time to answer, instead peppering his jaw and mouth with anxious kisses.

He felt more than heard the rumbling laugh of the Lieutenant against his back. "I'm sure after the briefing we can come straight back. Considering it is your first heat with us, after all."

"My first heat?" John mumbled in confusion. "No, it isn't. I've been with your unit for… um… nearly six months I think. I've had four heats in that time, this is my fifth."

The Captain tilted up John's chin and kissed him deeply before answering, "But this is your first heat _with_ us, as opposed to in your own quarters. Not all Omegas like to spend their heats _with_ their Alpha units and if you had never chosen to do this I never would have asked it of you. If you choose not to do this again that is completely your prerogative. But I ask you to consider very seriously two things, John." He stared down into John's face.

"What things?" John asked.

"Firstly, that you were right to be concerned about jealousy in the unit. I'm glad you brought it up, as it is a very real potential issue. There are only three solutions to this problem. You can spend your heats alone in your own quarters as you have been doing. Or you could bond with one Alpha of the unit either permanently or temporarily and spend your heats with only him. Or you can spend your heats like this, with all of us. What will _not_ work is to take two or three lovers from the unit and leave the rest out, or conversely to exclude a few people. We are a unit, and you need to take us as you find us or not at all."

John nodded as he took in all of this.

"All right then, the second thing is to consider the benefits of this arrangement. If you choose to do it this way, as the Omega of our unit you could become a powerful healing and balancing force for us. This will make both your work and mine a lot easier. An Alpha unit with an Omega as its centre is stronger, more focused and calmer. As you already know, a large group of Alphas develop certain competitive streaks and have excess aggression which always needs to be channelled in productive ways. Having an Omega as part of the team is a stabilizing force and a calm centre which unites the Alphas and encourages us to work together and to compete for your favour, instead of working against each other in pointless displays of aggression."

John felt the Lieutenant huff a laugh against his back. "Amen to that," he added.

The Captain leaned in and kissed him quickly. "I have to go soon, but you don't need to decide straight away. Think about it. Take this heat to experience what it would mean for you to be the centre of the unit and decide before your next heat. Not all Omegas like or can handle the attention of an entire unit of Alphas. I think you can, which is why I requested your assignment to us, but if you find it too overwhelming no-one will push you. You're a great medic and an asset to the unit however you choose to spend your heats." The Captain sighed and slid up to sit on the edge of the bedroll for a moment before climbing to his feet. "Come on Matt, you're on duty. You can't spend all day lying around in bed with John."

"Oh, please sir, you don't need me to take notes at the meeting. You and I both know everything that's going to be said tonight anyway." Lt. Wright said, without moving from his horizontal position.

The Captain rolled his eyes and laughed. "Lazy sod! Get up and do some work! John will still be here and still be in heat when we get back. I'll call Ben and Tony down to keep John company if you change the sign on the door."

"Not Tony, sir, he's still hung over from being on leave yesterday. Better give him a few more hours off, he can take a turn with John tomorrow. Ben and Jack are both off duty today, and from memory Daniel and Nick should be off tomorrow night. I'll double check the roster and get back to you on that. Bill is still here too, don't forget."

"Yes," the Captain smiled wryly, "but I think John's already worn out poor Bill. He was point man for this mission and John was taking no prisoners." They all looked over at the examination couch where Bill was snoring lightly.

The Lieutenant started to untangle himself from John's arms preparatory to leaving when both of them were taken by surprise by John's desperate whimper. John had not himself realized how much he wanted someone with him now that he was in full heat. He had not mated with an actual person for several months, and he wanted lots of skin to skin contact and he wanted it right now, dammit!

The Lieutenant settled back into the bedroll allowing John to claim his mouth and to cling to his chest. He looked up at the Captain with a smirk. "I think he needs me more right now than you do, sir. I suggest you send Ben down here and take Jack with you to the briefing in my stead. I'll still type up the notes afterwards, of course.

The Captain threw up his hands with a laugh. "All right! I see you are determined to make yourself indispensable to John, so just do your best to please him so much he decides to do this again. I'll send Ben around, and see you in my office tomorrow morning." The Captain waved on his way out the door.

John wrapped his arms around the Lieutenant's neck. "So, are you staying with me?" he asked, hardly able to believe it.

"Please, we're off duty. Call me Matt, and yes, I'm staying. What were we up to?" he kissed John, sliding his hands down John's back and pulling him close.

"Matthew… Matt…" murmured John, getting used to the Lieutenant's first name. As a senior officer to John he had never been allowed to use it before, though of course he knew what it was. A strange thought crossed his mind. If they mated, would he call the Captain by his first name as well? He knew it was Peter, he had seen it on various pieces of paperwork, but he couldn't imagine saying it.

"John, John!" laughed Matt quietly.

John blushed. "It just seems a bit strange, you know, us being together. I mean, _together_ together." John blushed again at the rather juvenile expression. "Aren't there rules about this kind of thing within a command chain?"

The Lieutenant pulled back slightly in order to face John seriously. "Strictly speaking, you are outside the chain of command anyway. As a doctor with the RAMC you are only a 'loaner' to our unit and can't command the troops, so none of them are part of your chain of command. Although you are responsible to me and the Captain, your own chain of command is your Captain and Major in the RAMC, not the Marines. So no, we aren't violating any regulations." He shrugged slightly. "I suppose technically the Captain and I shouldn't fuck either each other or any of the lower ranks, but as we all plan to fuck _you_ through the mattress I don't think we'll have much energy to spare anyway!"

He paused for a moment, thoughtfully. "Captains of Special Forces Units are given a lot of leeway in how they organize their units. Not all of them would go for this arrangement, it's true. But Captain Spiers makes it work, and he has a knack for requesting personnel whose psych profiles will suit this setting. He requested _you_, and look how well this is working out!" He winked at John and pulled him in for another leisurely kiss.

As they were slowly exploring one another's mouths, John felt someone else slide into the bedroll behind him, already naked and hard. He felt Matt look over his shoulder briefly.

"Ah, good, Ben. Did you change the sign on the door on your way in?"

"Yep. All right and tight. Had me some Ruby Murray too, so I'm ready to hit the frog."

John turned around to look at Ben after this incomprehensible announcement.

Matt laughed. "Ben here is rhyming slang specialist. Didn't you know?"

John shook his head mutely.

Ben smirked. "Ruby Murray? What rhymes with that?"

"Um, don't know?" ventured John.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Curry. But he'll never get the frog one, you'll have to tell him."

Ben smiled suggestively. "Oh, no. If he can't guess he'll have to suck it out of me…" He winked.

John felt his cock twitch with interest. It had been long enough since his encounter with Bill that he was starting to feel the need to be knotted again, but if an Alpha was willing to offer him something nice to suck on he wouldn't say no. Matt started to kiss him with more heat and he felt himself responding, until they were rubbing their erections together. Ben was running his hands down John's flanks as he kissed John's shoulders and neck from behind.

"Mmmm…" Ben was murmuring. "It's been too long since we had a willing Omega around on a regular basis."

Matt sighed his agreement. "So Ben, did you want top or tail?"

"I'll have the top end, if that's all right with both of you." Ben answered.

"Sounds good to me," Matt replied. "I want to knot John so hard he forgets any other Alphas he's ever had."

John just panted with eagerness. Were they talking about what he thought they were? He started imagining two Alpha cocks in him at once and could feel himself getting wet between the legs at the idea.

"He likes the sounds of that!" Ben laughed. "Getting a bit moist over here!" He slid out of the bedroll and opened it up further, creating a padded nest for them. He then urged John up onto his hands and knees and looked at him for a moment. "You know what, Matt? I think he's going to be too low down for us to do him properly like this. I think we need to get him on the couch."

"Good idea." The Lieutenant encouraged John to crawl up his body until he was standing again. John was a bit unsteady on his feet with dizzying lust. All he wanted was to lie down and have a loving Alpha cover and fill him completely. "Soon, love. Just climb up here and kneel again."

The adjustable height of the examination couch suddenly seemed like a brilliant idea. Ben must have lowered it slightly, as it was now a comfortable height for John to crawl onto. Ben was waiting on the other side, and as John crawled fully onto the bed he realized that his head was just at the right level for something else. He opened his mouth eagerly and Ben slid half of his cock straight into John mouth with a twitch of his hips. The height was perfect for both of them. Ben didn't need to bend at all and John's neck was at a comfortable angle.

Ben started to thrust shallowly into John's mouth, not going too deep to start with, allowing John to move back and forth to adjust how much cock he could manage. After a few tries they settled on about two-thirds of Ben's length being the ideal mouthful for John. Just as they were finding a comfortable rhythm, John felt something sliding into him from behind. It was small and warm, not another Alpha cock. Oh, it must be the Lieutenant's finger checking that he was still open and wet enough. John's mouth was too full to talk or he would have told the Lieutenant that lack of lubrication was never a problem for him. It was sometimes a bit embarrassing how wet he got when he was in heat and excited.

"Oh, John, you are still so wet and ready." Matt said. "You could probably just take my cock right now without a flinch couldn't you, my lovely?"

John hummed his agreement, and Ben groaned with the delicious vibrations from John's throat. He thrust his hips a bit harder into John's mouth, just as Matt entered John from behind. Matt slid straight in to the hilt and hissed with the sensation of the tight, wet heat of John's body. Matt gripped John's hips tightly and timed his thrusts to match Ben's. John groaned this time as he was penetrated deeply at both ends. Ben and Matt both pulled back and then slammed into him simultaneously and John thought would come right then from the overload of sensation.

John tried to use his tongue on Ben, but he had no concentration to spare for technique. Matt was setting a driving pace, pounding into him from behind and every thrust was touching his sweet spot deep inside. Ben was matching his pace from the front, although still being careful not to go too deep in case John gagged. John was pinned between them, writhing in ecstasy. Two Alphas were making love to him at the same time, and he could tell from the rising urgency of their thrusts that both were enjoying his body to the full.

Matt gasped out something from behind him, and it took John a moment to process the words for meaning. "Do you want me to bring you off with my hand?"

But the question was redundant, as John was already whining in the back of his throat with his impending climax. Ben beat him to it, the noises of an excited John tipping him over the edge and he spilled into John's mouth in quick pulses of warm, salty seed. He slipped out of John' mouth, freeing John to shout wordlessly as the orgasm shuddered through his body. As his internal walls clamped down on Matt, he also groaned and came, filling John with warmth and heat.

John almost collapsed on the spot, but he felt Matt's hands under his belly and Ben's on his shoulders guiding and supporting him back down to the bedroll. It was a little awkward with John and Matt knotted together, but finally they made it to the floor with John on his side and Matt curled protectively around him from behind.

Just before he fell asleep, John thought he heard voices, and a few other unit members seemed to be moving around the room. Usually this would have him jumping up to see what medical services were needed, but just now he was far too tired and happy to move…

* * *

_A/N: Just looking ahead a few chapters, I'm after some opinions. Are you all here just for the sexy smut, or do you want some angst and feelings as well as porn? Please leave a review and tell me what you like!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 3**

After the third and fourth times, John lost track of how much pleasure he was experiencing and just revelled in all the attention. He had never felt so valued, so cared-for and loved. For the first time in his life he regretted coming to the end of his heat. Usually the end of a heat was a time of relief and exhaustion, but thanks to an entire unit of Alphas taking turns with him and caring for him between enthusiastic rounds of sex, he had come to the end of the four days without feeling headachy, dehydrated or intolerably sore.

He reflected with satisfaction on a particular overheard conversation between the Captain and Bill which had taken place about half-way through his heat. He had been drowsing after a lovely foursome of hands and mouths all over him which had ended by the Captain himself knotting John for most of the night. Bill had come around in the morning and wanted to wake John for another turn and been subjected to what amounted to a lecture on the care and feeding of Omegas in heat. Some particularly choice phrases drifted through his mind.

"…the Omega is the emotional and hormonal anchor of the unit, but he will exhaust himself trying to care for everyone if we let him. His heats are the time for us, the Alphas of his unit, to show him that we can care and provide for him, not only physically but that we can fill his emotional tank too…"

"…medical Omegas in particular tend to put their own needs last, and in a heat this can be dangerous for them. We need to protect John from his own desire to please us all. If we get the balance wrong he will feel overwhelmed by our desires – after all, there are twelve of us and only one of him. But if we treat him right he will feel more desirable and satisfied than he ever has before…"

"…he might not even remember to drink water or feed himself unless we remind him. It is our job to make sure he takes care of himself, to clean him and make sure he is well lubricated and doesn't hurt himself…"

As soon as he stirred and the Captain realized he was awake, the conversation had ended and the demonstration started. Bill and the Captain had walked him to the shower and together had washed and checked him all over. His initial embarrassment at this intimacy had faded in the practical acknowledgement of its necessity. Twelve Alphas going at him day and night and knotting him every few hours was amazing and intense, but it also meant that he was at high risk for an anal tear or similar tissue damage. The Alphas in question were all physically fit and enthusiastic about pleasing him. John had never been so athletically and pleasurably exhausted.

After the shower Bill had made coffee and a hearty breakfast, and all three of them had eaten together. John had tentatively asked if the Captain needed to get back to the office, and surely he had more important things to do than sit in the sick bay eating toast and omelette with John and Bill? The Captain had laughed and tousled his hair and said that nothing in his day was more important than making sure John was eating and happy. John still felt warm inside at the memory.

After they had eaten, the Captain had gone to a planning meeting with the head of another Special Forces Unit. As soon as he was out the door Bill had nailed John hard into the mattress, then let him nap while Bill did the washing up. John felt hot inside at that memory and quite a few others.

The whole unit had passed through his bed at some stage in the four days, mostly in pairs. This unit was organized into six gunners of various types, each with his own wing-man. They worked together, trained together and apparently they took John to bed together. It wasn't clear to John if this was habit, for the convenience of their roster or camaraderie. Probably a combination of all three.

John was starting to worry about what it mean when his heat ended and he went back to being 'just' the unit medic. It was heady and exciting and slightly intoxicating being the centre of attention of twelve loving Alphas at once. They made love to him, cuddled him, washed him, fed him, talked to him and laughed with him. They indulged in the usual competitive Alpha stuff around him but it was all in good fun. The dirty joke competition had been a particular highlight. Ben had won it, narrowly beating out Tony on points for the right to knot John next. John still thought Tony's grasp of regional accents was incredible, and what Tony had done to John with his mouth afterwards was also incredibly hot.

John was getting to know them all in new ways. Ben was the class clown, Daniel the musician. Nick was the quietest of the group but had the largest cock and knew how to use it to make John scream. It was always the quiet ones that John had learned to watch out for. The Captain was the most thoughtful and considerate lover John had ever had, always making sure John was enjoying everything they did together. Matt had a very droll sense of humour which John felt that he only understood half the time but when he did it completely cracked him up. Osman and Prajeet made him some amazing spiced pancakes on the third morning of his heat, and their bodies also tasted slightly exotic. When either of them came across his tongue he couldn't get enough of it.

He loved them all, individually and collectively. However, now the honeymoon was coming to an end. By the afternoon of the fourth day John was starting to come down from his hormonal high, and by the evening it was obvious to all of them. The Captain quietly suggested to John that if he felt up to getting dressed, they could have a unit dinner together in the mess hall.

It had been a wonderful evening. The Captain had ordered a few bottles of wine and it had the feeling of a celebration. But it also felt like the end of a glorious summer and as he walked back to his own quarters John felt a little lonely and anxious. What was going to happen now? He wouldn't be expected to continue to offer sexual services to the whole unit indefinitely, would he? The Captain's 'all or none' rule couldn't possibly apply all the time, could it?

The Lieutenant, John supposed he could no longer call him 'Matt', walked John back to the First Aid station. For the first time John noticed the sign on the door. The 'no service' sign he had put on the door that first day, which seemed so long ago now, had been altered with a black Biro. Someone had crossed out the 'no' and written underneath in large enthusiastic letters 'John'. He blushed to think of that sign hanging on the door for four days.

"Better collect your personal items and take them back to your quarters. Tomorrow everything will get back to normal, and I know the Captain has a doozy of a training exercise set up to start at stupid o'clock. I fully expect at least one injury before 0800 so you'll need to get the sick bay fully set up." He slapped John on the shoulder fondly. "I quite liked using the sick bay for a change instead of the usual heat tent. That first aid shower is much more convenient for three people. I think I'll suggest making it a permanent change."

"Oh really?" said John. "I thought it was just a co-incidence that it started there and we all just stayed there."

"Well, sort of. There's a special heat tent which can be set up if we need it. You don't want to be trying to entertain the whole unit in your own quarters for lots of reasons. Firstly, it is just too small. Secondly, it is much nicer to have access to cooking facilities rather than running back and forth to the mess hall. Finally, it is good for you to have some separation between what you do for us as the Unit Omega and what you choose to do in the privacy of your own quarters. You need your own space where you can be alone or where you can have visitors on your own terms. Speaking of which, here we are."

The Lieutenant nodded at the door, and John realized that they had arrived back at his quarters. His feet must have carried him the short distance from the First Aid station without his noticing. The Lieutenant gave him a vague half-wave, half-salute and wandered off. John went into his room and closed the door, alone for the first time since the start of his heat. His room was quiet, but he realized that the Lieutenant had been right. He did need his own space. He threw himself down on his own bed and stretched out luxuriously, enjoying having it all to himself. He set his alarm for the morning, wondering what time 'stupid o'clock' would be in military terms. He decided that 0600 would be early enough, and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

# # # # # # # # # #

As it turned out 'stupid o'clock' was 0530 and the whole unit, including John, was woken by a loud-speaker call to assemble with full packs for a training drill. They all threw themselves into it eagerly and even John got to shoot something before the day was over. The injuries the Lieutenant had predicted were mostly minor; bruises, muscle strains and a bit of sunburn. John had to read the riot act to Jack about neglecting sunscreen, and he looked suitably abashed and swore to remember next time. John was pleased. He had been concerned that after four days of straight sex they might forget about his medical skills and refuse to take his advice, but so far this did not seem to be a problem.

Actually, in some ways his work seemed to be slightly easier for the new aspect to their relationships. Before, he had always felt a little bit of an outside to the unit and slightly envious of their obvious ease with one another. Now he was fully included in everything, even held a rather favoured position. In the mess hall at the end of the day they all vied with each other to bring him what he liked best and to tell stories for him to admire. He seemed to be somehow important to them – something between a mascot (when he was being petted and offered tidbits) and a favourite teacher (when they were showing off their work or bringing him tea). They were eager for his praise and he respected and admired them all and had no hesitation in giving it. His replies to their tales of prowess and adventure were universally "Brilliant!" or "Amazing!" and the best part was that he was always sincere. The Alphas preened and strutted and strived even harder to impress him.

The Captain and the Lieutenant watched John settle in and the men of the unit adopt him into their hierarchy. The unit bonded around him and grew robust. The Lieutenant was happy to see it and the Captain thanked God and the personnel office for sending them John. They both knew the time was coming when those bonds would be tested.

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_Please review! Good or bad, I can take it! Constructive criticism always appreciated!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 4.**

_Trigger warning for graphic combat scenes. War, killing and death. Hint: this is where John's PTSD comes from. If you don't want to read this chapter skip to the next one. I'll put a summary of the main events at the start of it._

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Soon after John's initiation as the Unit Omega, Captain Spiers held a top secret briefing for their whole unit.

"As you all know, we have been working up and training for a very important mission. We have been assigned the assassination of an important terrorist who had been working behind the scenes in Afghanistan. Intelligence agents have been gathering information and they think they have pinpointed his hideout. Any day now I expect the civilian authorities to give the go-ahead and as soon as they do, we will launch. The whole mission will be carried out within a 12 hour time window. The gunners will carry long and short-range weapons, the wing-men and scouts will go in first, Bill and John last. There will be fighting in close quarters and there will be casualties."

All the men nodded silently and grimly. These were the kinds of tasks Special Forces Units existed to perform.

"Everyone double check your packs and secure your supplies. All leave is cancelled, everyone is to remain on a one-hour recall. Sleep if you can. Once we launch we won't stop until we achieve our objective and are back at base. Dismissed."

The men broke up quietly and returned to their quarters with minimal conversation. No-one discussed the alternative to achieving the objective. They would succeed or die trying.

Everyone occupied himself with ritualistic tasks of preparation. Ben composed a long email to his parents. Tony and Nick field-stripped their weapons, cleaned everything and put them back together. It was almost meditative watching them work, the only sound between them the clicking of metal parts. John and Bill disassembled and restocked the portable first aid kits they would carry. On a mission like this they would each carry a full supply, though usually only John would have a complete kit.

John stripped, cleaned and reassembled his side-arm. He was not a Marine and was not expected to take down targets with his weapon, but he was trained and expected to defend himself and any wounded in his care. In fact, John quite enjoyed emptying a clip or two on the firing range. In the company of the Marines he found his accuracy increasing quite quickly, though he was not in their class when it came to speed especially when reloading. He also found that his accuracy decreased quite quickly when he was running, but standing still he was a crack shot. Surgery also requires good hand-eye co-ordination, steady hands and good focus so it was just a matter of putting those skills to a new application. The unit rivalry and good-natured competition did not hurt either.

John left the common room and wandered back to his own quarters. He did not have anyone to write emails to back at home. He seemed to have lost touch with most of his medical school friends. Most of them thought he was crazy to go into the army. After the first year of being posted overseas and away from Facebook and social media on the rare occasion when he logged in he found many of the conversations incomprehensible and the rest just silly.

He briefly considered writing an email to his sister or parents, but decided he did not have anything in particular to say. He had never been a fan of the "if I die" style of email writing. As a medic he was out of the direct line of fire most of the time and if a stray bullet took him down, well, they would get a letter from his Captain soon enough explaining the circumstances. He was not allowed to talk about the preparation for secret missions, and the mess hall food was not worth writing home about.

He decided to take the Captain's advice and try to get some sleep. He put his pager on the desk beside his head, snuggled down in his bedroll and completely failed to go to sleep. He kept running through his mind a hundred varieties of what could happen on the mission. The only certainty was that the actual mission would be different again.

Sighing, he sat up and decided to compose an email to Harry after all. Even if it was only 'hello, I'm still alive' it was probably worth trying to make contact, even if she was too drunk to reply. He opened his laptop and brought up his email. He had got as far as "Hey, Harry," when the pager went off.

His laptop crashed to the floor as he lunged to grab the pager and read the message. It was a simple directive to report to the vehicle bay. This was it. His first mission into enemy territory as a fully fledged medic with his Unit depending on him. He hoisted his pack onto his back. It seemed lighter than it had in training. Adrenaline was pumping through his body and he was ready to move out.

The Unit was gathering and being sorted into vehicles as he arrived. The Captain was part of the first six currently piling into the first armoured vehicle, the Lieutenant directed John to join the second six in another transport vehicle. "Get in and secure your pack," he said shortly. "There will be a further briefing on the way." John did not ask questions, just climbed in the back of the second transport. He was not quite last. Daniel jumped in practically on his heels, breathing hard. Jack shook his head at him and Daniel winced.

"Couldn't find my lucky socks," he muttered.

"Does it really matter?" Jack returned. "I'll be your wing as usual, you've got your favourite rifle and our lucky Unit Omega is with us. What are socks compared with all that?"

"Not a good sign, going on a mission like this. First I can't find my lucky socks, now we get a change of objective just as we set off. This is bad. I hope at least the intell is correct or we're all up shit creek." He frowned.

John was confused. "Isn't it usual to get a briefing in the vehicles on the way?"

"Shit, no." Daniel looked almost offended. "This is supposed to be a surgical operation; quick in to the objective and quick out. It should have been planned down to the last detail before we launched. There should be nothing to say except 'you all know what to do'. Seriously, doc, would you embark on surgery, only to change your plans five minutes before you stick the knife in?"

"Well, no," admitted John.

"This is exactly the same. A briefing on the way suggests something has changed, either in the plans or objective, or else in the intelligence information. Whatever it is, someone is changing plans on the fly rather than scrapping the mission and starting over with the new intell. Even worse, the time pressure means that the unit is being briefed in two halves rather than all together. It all smells like a botch-up waiting to happen. I don't like it. I wish I was wearing my lucky socks."

The Lieutenant jumped in opposite John and slammed the doors. At that signal the driver started the engine and they were off. The Lieutenant waved for their attention, and all the Alphas and John leaned in to listen.

"There is a slight change of plan," he began. Daniel nudged John in the ribs, which he had no difficulty understanding. "The objective is no longer assassination. The civilian authorities have instructed us to try to capture the target." The was a sharp hissing of inhaled breath from all the Alphas, and Jack gave a low whistle of dismay.

The Lieutenant frowned. "I remind you all that though a capture is more difficult than a simple assassination, High Command feels that the information from this terrorist cell is important to obtain. We are Bootnecks and proud of it, and we follow orders in the service of the Queen. By Sea, By Land."

The rest of the unit except for John echoed the motto of the Royals, "By Sea, By Land." The RAMC motto, which John had always liked, was "Faithful in Adversity". He supposed that could equally apply to this situation.

"All right, gentlemen. Let's get out the radio headsets and check communications one last time."

# # # # # # # # # #

It was the middle of the night by the time they arrived and climbed stiffly out of the vehicles. They stretched with relief before shouldering their packs and gathering together beside the Captain, in the shelter of the first car. "This is the pickup point. We reassemble here after our objective is achieved. Mark it on your GPS and let's move out. First six with me, second six with Lt. Wright. Radio silence from now until objective achieved. Good luck and good hunting."

The Captain and Tony, his wingman, lead the group down the hill to the north. The Lieutenant and Nick waited fifteen minutes before heading off to the north-east. The first group had further to go and would need time to circle around toward the terrorist headquarters.

Afterwards, John could never recall much detail about the journey towards their objective. It seemed like short bursts of running and hiding, followed by long waits that caused his body to cool and stiffen, just in time for another run which made him sweat again. He guessed it was about three hours of running and hiding but it was impossible to gauge the distance covered in that time.

Just before they entered the terrorist headquarters the group gathered together. There was no time or necessity for speech. They assembled in order and the Lieutenant nodded for the first man to go in. Jack was the point man for this mission, with Daniel close behind him. On the signal to move, Jack launched himself at the door and smashed it in with his shoulder, instantly diving and rolling to his right. Daniel went through directly behind him, diving and rolling left. Their gunfire rang out through the night, and the sound of return fire followed immediately.

Too immediately. This was supposed to be surprise attack in the middle of the night. How could the terrorists be already alert and armed? Unless they knew the Marines were coming…

John felt a chill down his spine in spite of the sweat gathering under his pack. He loosened his gun in its holster and rubbed his sweating hands down the side of his fatigues to improve his grip.

Then the radio in his earpiece crackled to life with Captain's voice, "Change of ROE, target is now to be killed. Repeat, kill shot if possible, do not attempt capture."

John bit his lip. What the hell was going on in there? He was under strict instructions not to enter the building until called but he hated waiting out here while his Unit, his mates, were under heavy fire.

The minutes crawled past. He could hear gunfire more intermittently now, and it seemed to be moving away from his position.

"Medic!" John jolted to his feet and looked around before realizing that the voice was coming from his headset. The voice was Nick, the Lieutenant's wingman. There was slight panting through the earpiece, as if he was running. "I'm coming, hold your position."

John held his breath and prayed that it was not the Lieutenant who needed his urgent attention. It seemed an eternity until Nick's head popped around the doorframe, and waved John over. John ran to him and together they started back down the passage. Nick switched off his microphone and gestured to John to do likewise.

"It's Daniel." Nick said shortly. "Bill has a tourniquet around his leg but it's going to be hard to evac him from here. We need you to rig some kind of walking splint. It'll hurt like hell, but there's no way we can carry him back to the pickup point."

John nodded his understanding, too short of breath to waste any on useless speech. Nick slowed down as they penetrated deeper into the building, checking doorways and side passages.

They reached the central room of the headquarters building and the first thing that hit John as he entered was the smell. The harsh metallic tang of blood, and a lot of it. Overlying that was the stench of bowel contents and the acrid bite of gun smoke. People had died in this room, or rather, been killed. There were bodies lying where they had fallen, but John tried to avoid looking at them. None that he could see were wearing Marine uniforms, thank God.

Nick directed John immediately to where Daniel was lying on a table. Bill had already cut open the leg of his trousers and applied a tourniquet above the knee. The lower part of his leg from just below the knee was a mess with white bone poking out through the skin. Daniel appeared to be unconscious. His head was turned away and his eyes were closed.

"Report." John said to Bill.

"Comminuted open tibial fracture, possible laceration of popliteal vein. Fifteen migs of IV morphine given so far, and another five of midazolam."

"What? Midaz? Why?" John was shocked. It was not standard practice to sedate a patient in the field. Painkillers were necessary of course, but midazolam was a pure sedative.

"Jack was killed. Shot to the head."

John inhaled sharply. The loss of his wingman, combined with his own injury had clearly caused Daniel to lose control and forced Bill to sedate him. John could not fault his reasoning, but they were all in a situation now which would make it hard to evacuate. He leaned over to look into the wound. The tourniquet was controlling the blood loss but there was bone open to the air. That needed to change, immediately.

"Bill, stabilize the knee. I'm going to sterilize the area and reduce the fracture. Then we bandage him as tight as possible and bug out. Who else can we recruit to help carry him?"

Bill shook his head. "The others are all still in pursuit. We only have a few minutes. The area isn't secure." He looked down at Daniel's face for a moment. "At least he's out of it. This is going to hurt like hell."

John shrugged. They had no choice and no time. Once they withdrew to the base Daniel could go to surgery and be properly patched up. There were antibiotics for infection and therapists for the shock of losing his wing. But none of that would matter unless John could get him stabilized and they could get him out of here in one piece.

John tore open a packet of antiseptic liquid and poured it liberally over the wound, washing out the worst of the dirt. He poured a second packet more specifically over the end of the bone and around the surrounding skin.

"Nick! Give me a hand here." Nick returned from prowling the perimeter of the room.

"Put your hands below mine, and when I say, pull hard and steady straight down on his ankle. Got it? We need the bone to be pulled out straight and splinted back in place or it will slice the artery when we move him and he'll lose the leg."

Nick was pale but resolute. "Whatever you say, doc, but make it quick."

John placed Nick's hands around Daniel's ankle and checked that Bill had control of the knee. "Pull on 'three'. One. Two. THREE!" John guided Nick to pull down directly in line with the leg as hard as he could, while Bill created counter-traction from above the fracture. Once the pressure of the contracting muscles was removed, John delicately manoeuvered the flesh and bone until… _click!_ The bone slid smoothly back into place. Daniel groaned, the pain of the movement penetrating even his drugged sleep. Nick grunted as the ankle moved under his hands.

"OK, that's it. You can let go." John said. "Bill get some sutures, a dressing and a pressure bandage while I set up for a splint."

Just then the Captain's voice came over all their headsets simultaneously. "Target down! Full retreat. Repeat, all retreat to the pickup point."

Nick released Daniel's ankle and switched his microphone back on. "Belay that. Casevac in progress. Closest pair form on my signal to help evac."

The Captain responded immediately, "Osman and Prajeet, go to Nick. Matt, you too. Everyone else, bug out."

Nick turned to John. "There's no time to suture. Wrap and splint and we'll have to take turns carrying him. We can't be left behind when the others pull out, there's no way we can secure this room. If he can't walk anyway, sedate him. We can't have him making noise and drawing attention."

John did not waste time replying. He slapped a sticky dressing over the open wound and started wrapping as fast and tight as possible around the leg. The pressure bandage went from above the knee all the way down to the toes, to prevent bleeding or swelling. John thanked his earlier self for making absolutely sure all the bandages were stowed neatly, as that was now the only thing making the fast wrap possible. Once the bandage was secure, he grabbed the air splint and inflated it over the leg. "All secure Bill, release the tourniquet."

Nick gave John a sharp look, but did not say anything. John answered it anyway. "We can't keep checking his circulation while we run. If we leave the tourniquet on too long the tissues may die from lack of oxygen. If we release it, he may lose some blood but the fracture is reduced and the pressure bandage will help too. If it looks bad later I'll reapply the tourniquet. For now, let's go!"

Nick nodded once. "Bill, you take Dan first, I'll take point. We can switch once we get outside the building. Abandon the packs and everything except urgent medical supplies and ammo."

John was unhappy that they obviously thought he could not help in carrying Daniel. Then he reconsidered their relative heights and decided to shut his mouth. He took out all the painkillers and sedatives and an extra bandage from the main medical kit and stuffed it into the small portable. He buckled it around his waist and jogged after Nick out of the room.

The withdrawal was a nightmare of stumbling over broken ground and trying to find cover. Osman, Prajeet and Lt. Wright caught up with them once they were outside the building. Nick was clearly relieved to have his opposite number back and even more so to hand over command of the team. They ran when they could, walked and scrambled when they had to, but even with five of them to share the load Daniel was a heavy burden and the pickup point too far away.

An hour into their journey, Daniel started to wake up as the sedatives wore off. He started to kick and thrash out of Osman's grasp. "Jack! Who's got Jack?" He was looking around wildly. "Jack was hurt! We have to go back for him!"

Osman eased Daniel down as his wild kicking threatened to drop them both to the ground. Nick nodded at John to break the bad news.

"Daniel, listen to me. Jack was shot in the head. I'm sorry, there was nothing anyone could do." John said sympathetically.

Daniel's eyes widened in shock. He shook his head stubbornly. "No! You can help him! You're our medic and our Omega, he'll hold on for you. I know he will. Come back with me, together we can get him home."

John shook his head slowly and gripped Daniel's arm. "I'm sorry, there is nothing we could have done. Now we need to get you out. You won't be able to walk, but if you can hold on Osman can piggy-back you more easily than carry you."

Daniel folded his arms across his chest. "No, I'm not leaving him! Matt! What kind of Lieutenant leaves one of his men in the field?" He almost spat the accusation.

Nick got right in front of Daniel, in his face, until they were chest to chest. "What do you think I have here?" he asked, waving a closed fist under Daniel's nose. "It's his dog tags, taken from his cold body. I'm sorry, but you have to realize Jack is gone. If you don't cooperate you could endanger all our lives, including John's." He dropped his voice to a low, intimate almost-whisper. "You want to protect John, don't you?"

John felt the Lieutenant's hand on his back, urging him forward. He stumbled and nearly fell against Daniel, whose arms opened involuntarily to catch and steady him. John knew this was the time to play every card he had. He leaned into Daniel and wrapped his arms around Daniel's neck. He tucked his head under Daniel's chin for good measure. He knew he had been sweating and his hair would hold the pheromones more strongly than his skin.

"Daniel, you want to get me back to base, don't you? You want me to be safe, don't you? Protect me, Daniel. Help me. When we get home we can be together, Daniel. I'm John, your Omega. Your John. Do it for me, Daniel." He rubbed his head along Daniel's jaw, spreading the scent of stressed Omega. He leaned up and kissed Daniel lightly and felt the Marine's arms tighten around him. It was working, so he decided it was time to work it a little more. "Let's go Daniel. It isn't safe for me here. Prajeet will help you. Let's go home."

John kept a hand on Daniel's arm as he climbed onto Prajeet's back and the group was moving again. Nick nodded at him, and he felt the Lieutenant clap him approvingly on the back as he jogged past.

They staggered the rest of the way back to the pickup point without further incident. The armoured vehicle was waiting for them, the first six having already gone in the other transport. They climbed in the back and the Lieutenant slammed the door. It was a silent trip back to base, all of them avoiding looking at the empty space at Daniel's side. John checked the bandages for bleeding every twenty minutes without commenting on the silent tears flowing down Daniel's face.

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_Please review! It will encourage me to post the next chapter sooner!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 5.**

_Trigger warnings for this chapter: surgical procedures, swearing._

_For those who didn't read the last chapter due to violent content, Jack was killed and his wing-man Daniel was injured. They managed to evacuate Daniel despite his broken leg and panic attack because John used his Omega pheromones to stimulate Daniel's protective instincts. We resume the story as the broken and damaged Unit returns to base…_

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The second armoured transport rolled into the vehicle bay and even before the engine stopped the Captain was opening the back door and assessing the condition of the second half of his team. His eyes went first to Daniel, then John, then flicked over the rest of the unit.

"Well done boys, objective achieved. Matt, report to my office. John, report to the surgical suite. Daniel, stand by for a wheelchair transfer. The rest of you; fall out and return to quarters." He slapped each man on the shoulder as they wearily climbed down out of the vehicle.

"John, the orthopaedic surgeon is standing by, as you requested. He will assess Daniel and take him straight to theatre. You've done well today and if you would prefer to rest you've certainly earned it. If you want to go to theatre and assist the surgeon, I'm sure he would welcome your insights." The Captain nodded to John, and took the Lieutenant by the elbow. "Come on down, Matt. We have a helluva mess to sort out in the final report…" They walked briskly out of earshot.

An orderly appeared with a wheelchair for Daniel, and John followed them to the surgical suite. The base did not have surgical specialists on site, but had arrangements with the local hospitals for visiting specialists to come across when needed. John realized with a slight shock that it was 0830, and the morning was just getting started for most people. The mission had taken all night, yet in less than twelve hours everything had changed. _He_ was changed, he was baptized by fire, he was… tired.

Daniel was wheeled off to x-ray and John dithered as to what he should do next. He had been up all night and was completely burned out of adrenaline. He wanted to see what happened next with Daniel. He wanted to know if he had done everything as well as possible under the circumstances. He wanted to go to bed, and he was so tired he knew he was barely capable of making decisions. Like whether to go to bed or not.

One of the theatre nurses saw him hovering and took pity on his exhausted state. "He will be in x-ray at least half an hour, and they can't start in theatre three until after 0930. If you want to have a shower and a kip, I can page you when Daniel is under and they are ready to go."

"I'd like that, yeah, thanks very much." John mumbled and staggered off towards the showers.

# # # # # # # # # #

John was woken from deep sleep by his pager. He snatched it up and read the message. _Daniel going under, Theatre 3._ The nurse's estimate had been pretty close. It was now 0945 according to his pager.

He rolled out of bed and stretched out his back. He had not had enough sleep, but he wanted to be there when they operated on Daniel. He did not have much in the way of information to offer, but he was interested in how the orthopod would approach the comminuted fracture. Most importantly, he wanted to know if Daniel would retain full function of the leg. An injury like this could retire him from the Royals if not able to be repaired completely.

John had a few minutes yet. He contemplated another shower to wake himself up but decided to go for food instead. Once he was ensconced in the operating theatre he might be there for hours. He ran across to the mess hall and was lucky enough to find them still clearing away some of the last remains of breakfast. He helped himself to an egg and bacon sandwich.

He was severely tempted by the coffee pot but restricted himself to a half cup only. Who knew when he might get the chance to take a leak once the operating started. Still chewing, he entered the theatre change rooms and with the familiarity of long practice shed all his clothes into a neat pile and pulled on theatre greens. They were too large for him, as usual, and he made a mental note to ask someone to restock the size smalls from the nursing supply.

He scrubbed his hands and presented himself to Theatre 3 just as the orthopod was finishing the prep and drape and starting to explore the wound. He looked up as John took up the position of assistant directly opposite.

"Ah, you must be Dr. John Watson. You can call me Dr. Aasif. I heard you were there when this rather nasty wound was received?" He raised one eyebrow.

John blinked at the Afghan surgeon's excellent command of colloquial English, then registered the slight South African accent. Must have trained in South Africa. He forced his wandering mind back to the point.

"Yes, I was, or rather, I arrived soon after. I'm the field medic, so I did the wound washout and reduction of the fracture. I'm afraid I can't tell you much about how he received the original injury though."

Dr. Aasif hummed under his breath as he explored the wound with his fingers. He had already poured saline over most of it to wash out the contaminants and was extending the access with a scalpel. Daniel's x-rays were mounted on the light box behind him, and over his shoulder John could see for the first time the number of small pieces of bone involved. This was going to be a difficult repair.

"Dr. Aasif," John asked tentatively, almost afraid to hear the answer. "Do you think he will regain complete use of the leg?"

"Oh yes, if he does his physiotherapy afterwards. He will probably have some pain on exertion for the rest of his life, but I expect full function and no loss of leg length. It will be up to him to decide how much the pain is a problem for him. He could retire to a less active position if he wants to, but being a Royal Marine Commando I expect that is unlikely?" He looked at John for confirmation.

"I don't know." John returned slowly. "He lost his partner in this mission. I'm not sure how much that will affect him." John shook his head. "It's too early to tell. As you say, a Royal doesn't chuck in the towel easily. I'm glad you think he will be able to continue his career, if he wants to."

The rest of the operation went well, if slowly. It was a tedious process aligning and fixing all the pieces of bone in place. Daniel would be full of plates and screws when it was over, but he would have his leg and the full range of motion. The orthopod grumbled a bit about the amount of dirt contaminating the wound and the length of time between the injury and surgery, but John tried not to take it personally. The nature of the field repairs and evacuation circumstances made it inevitable.

John estimated they were about half an hour away from the end of the five-hour operation when Dr. Aasif finally stepped back from the operating table and stretched out his back. "Well, nearly done now. I'll just lace up the leg and he can go to recovery." He turned to the anaesthetist, who was playing Sudoku on his iPad. "You can start reversing him in about ten minutes." The gas man just grunted an acknowledgement without looking up.

"What?" gasped John. "Aren't you going to close the skin?"

Dr. Aasif stared at him in return. "Goodness, no! A contaminated wound, extensive trauma, plates _in situ_? All this needs to drain or he'll get compartment syndrome for sure."

"Oh, yes. Of course." John mumbled, rather ashamed of himself. "I must be overtired."

"I'll just lace the wound together without closing completely, leave it to drain and he can be skin grafted in a week or so. I'll come by to check on him every day."

They finished the rest of the operation and took down the drapes in silence. John was too tired for conversation. His body was finally running out of adrenaline and its substitute; caffeine. Just before he staggered out of the theatre suite he sent the same message to both the Captain and the Lieutenant. _Daniel in recovery. Operation successful. Eight weeks of rest and PT, expect return to full function._

# # # # # # # # # #

When John woke it was dark. He did not remember walking back to his quarters or falling asleep still in his theatre greens, which his current situation suggested he must have done. He wandered back to the theatre change rooms to dump his greens in the laundry and retrieve his clothes, then went to the mess hall in search of whatever meal was being served.

He had long missed dinner, which he did not regret at all. He did not think he could face a crowd at the moment. He took a plate and filled it quickly with cold meat and salad, snagged a roll and escaped back to his first aid station. Somehow, he was more at home here than in his bare quarters. As he ate he disassembled and repacked the portable first aid kit. The larger medical pack had been abandoned in the retreat, so with a sigh John sat down to start the paperwork to requisition a new one. He was only half way through the application form when his pager buzzed with a new message. _Team debriefing tomorrow 1030. Waterloo ward, room 4. BYO chair._

John stared at the message for a moment before realizing what it meant. Daniel would still be in traction so the debriefing was being held at his bedside to allow him to participate. This had the Captain's fingerprints all over it, and John felt his eyes filling with tears as he contemplated what would probably be discussed tomorrow. He filed the remainder of the paperwork on his desk for another day and returned to bed.

# # # # # # # # # #

John planned to arrive in Daniel's room a good quarter hour before the briefing was due to start, to check on his wound (and mental state) before the others arrived. He was surprised to see the Captain hovering just outside Daniel's door.

"Ah, John. Good, I was hoping you would come across a bit early," he said. "Walk with me a moment?"

Of course John agreed and they wandered up the corridor, out of earshot of Daniel and the nursing station.

"Have you been to many mission debriefs before, John?" the Captain asked.

"A few, of course. Plus a few with actors when in training." John replied.

"Good, good. This one will be a difficult session. There will be anger, grief and guilt." The Captain raised a finger to forestall John's protest that there was no reason for guilt. "There _will_ be guilt, misplaced or otherwise. I wanted to remind you not to contradict anyone's experience or try to tell them how to feel. The emotions need to be expressed."

John nodded his understanding.

"Don't be afraid of them – even in the midst of their anger and grief they won't hurt you. They need you to help them process the emotions. Also remember that as the Unit Omega, what you say is particularly emotionally powerful. They will listen to you, follow your lead. You are a good doctor, John, a healer. Just do and say what comes naturally and I'm sure you'll be fine." The Captain gripped John's shoulder reassuringly, and they returned to Daniel's room.

John strolled into Daniel's room, carefully putting on his 'cheerful face' first. Daniel was a little anxious but not in too much pain. John checked over Daniel's charts and looked at the wound. He was pleased to see that it was healing cleanly, no signs of infection so far. He helped Daniel to sit up in bed as the other members of the unit filtered in and formed a circle with their chairs. It was a tight fit with the bed plus ten chairs in a single room. As the Lieutenant closed the door, John realized that he had forgotten to bring a chair for himself. He groaned inwardly and perched on the side of Daniel's bed. This would be an uncomfortable position for a long session, but maybe he could ease himself to the floor later.

The Captain stood, and instantly had everyone's attention. Unlike the others who were all in casual fatigues, he was wearing his dress uniform jacket and cap. "Thank you all for your attention. I have some explanations and apologies to give before we start the main part of the debrief."

A murmur ran around the room at this unexpected beginning. John wondered what the Captain had to apologize for, or on whose behalf? Surely not Jack, but he was the only one missing.

'The first thing to say, and what I want you all to keep in the front of your minds, is that our mission objective was achieved." He nodded firmly and caught the eyes of everyone in the room. "The mission was a success, though we paid a high price for it." He paused for a moment to let people digest that thought.

He resumed quietly, "There was a failure of intelligence for the mission. It is not clear to me whether it was intell lacking or a leak, but either way they knew we were coming. The HQ was much more heavily defended than we had been led to expect, and with much heavier weapons. This is why I changed the mission objective. It was on my own authority, but in the circumstances I could see that a capture would fail. Our only hope to make Jack's death count was to achieve a kill. We did that, and I'm proud of each and every one of you for your courage under fire, your focus on doing your jobs and following orders even when those orders were changing. And be assured," a steely glint came into the Captain's eyes. "Be _very_ sure that I am _personally_ following up how such a failure of intell could have happened."

This time the murmur that ran around the room had more than a hint of a growl in it. The Captain now slowly removed his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair, and took off his hat and placed it carefully on Daniel's bedside table. Under his dress jacket he was wearing his oldest and slightly faded fatigues. With a deliberate change of posture he flopped down into his chair.

"So that's it for the Captain. I'll be Peter for the rest of this debrief and whatever we say here in this room stays in this room and completely off the record." He sighed and ran his hands over his face. "Matt, I might ask you to start."

The Lieutenant, or rather Matt, rose to his feet. "I'm tired and sore," he said with a grimace. "That withdrawal was hellish and it felt endless and crazy. I'm sad that we lost Jack. I'm mad that this could be the fault of someone on our _own_ side. But most of all I'm proud that we did it, even though it was bloody hard going." He sat down.

Daniel waved his hand to speak next and Matt nodded at him to go ahead. "How could this happen?" he asked with bewildered pain. "The orders were stupid. The intell was incomplete or leaked, and Jack paid the price of fuck-ups by the higher-ups! It isn't _fair_!" Tears were running down his face, but it was unclear to John if they were tears of grief or frustrated anger, or both. "They tell me I'll have pain from this injury for months, at least, but I can't face the pain of having a new wing-man. I won't have a newcomer replace Jack! I'll retire first."

Matt and Peter exchanged a glance, and Peter spoke quietly into the room. "We may have a solution for that. If another pair is willing to split, one of them could be your new wing and the other take the new member. I agree it is too much to expect you to induct someone new and heal from your injury at the same time, and we want you to stay with us. We won't ask anyone to volunteer now, but I want all of you to think about it and discuss it in your pairs. It's a big decision, but if you think you can do it come speak to me privately."

Daniel was still too choked up with tears to reply, so he just nodded. John leaned across the bed and hugged him hard and let him cry into his shoulder. He lost track of who was talking for a few minutes, but when he looked up Nick had the floor. He had lost his usual quiet manner and was flushed and ranting with anger.

"…how could you do it, Matt? You left me behind! I'm supposed to be your wing-man and you made me stay behind and sent me to fetch the medic like some fucking _messenger boy_ while the mission was still incomplete!"

Matt spread his hands in appeal to Nick. "I am _so_ sorry it felt like I was leaving you behind. Bill was stabilizing Daniel, and I needed to put them in the care of someone who could fetch John, yes, but also someone who could oversee their safe withdrawal under fire. I was not sure I would be able to rejoin you, so I needed to put someone in charge that I could trust completely. I knew Bill and John would be completely occupied with medical duties and would not secure their own safety, and might not be able to retreat alone."

"Oh." Nick's anger seemed to be losing focus. Before it could find a new one, John stepped up to Nick and put his arms around his neck. "Thank you for getting me in time. We saved Daniel's leg you know. Thank you for getting us all out of that trap, and guiding us out of the building." He rubbed his cheek along Nick's jaw and felt him relax a little.

Daniel added, "Thank you for remembering to bring Jack's dog-tags. I know his mother will want them." At those words Nick broke down completely and started crying into John's neck. John guided him to sit down in his chair and ended up being pulled onto his lap. He sat with his arms around Nick as the next speaker took the floor to pour out his grief and anger.

One after another they all spoke of fear, pain, anger and dismay and as each one finished and broke down, John held him and reminded him of his admiration and love.

By the end of the session all the Marines were calmer. Their sadness and loss still simmered below the surface, but the more volatile anger had been vented. They quietly picked up their chairs and returned to their quarters.

John sank to the floor, exhausted. Both shoulders of his shirt were soaked, his neck and lips had bites from some of the more intense moments of the debrief. Peter and Matt hauled him to his feet and steadied him. He leaned against Peter as Matt rubbed small circles on his back.

Peter spoke quietly in his ear, "You did so well, I knew you could do it. I'm so proud of your work today." Matt murmured his agreement. "Let's get you back to your quarters and some rest, unless you would prefer food?"

John shook his head. "I didn't realize a debrief would be so tiring. I thought we would just talk a bit, but this felt like doing the mission all over again!"

Peter sighed. "This was a particularly difficult one. They won't all be this hard on you. But you did a fine job in there." He chuckled lightly. "No one exploded and nothing got broken. That's definitely a success!"

With Peter's assistance John managed to get back to his own quarters, where he flopped down on the bed with a sigh.

Peter said, "I'll leave you to get some rest." But instead of leaving he pulled down the blind that shaded the window and checked John's water jug by the bed. He returned to the side of the bed to look into John's face.

"How are you feeling after all that? Do you want to rest alone, or would you like some company?" he asked delicately.

John sat up. "I… I think I need to debrief from the debrief!" he said, and burst into tears himself. Peter was instantly beside John on the bed, holding him tight and rocking him slightly as he vented his own stress. The storm was brief but intense and when it was over John lay limp in Peter's arms.

"Better now?" Peter asked. "You did such amazing work, I'm not surprised you're having a reaction afterwards. I don't know how you do it, managing the emotions of so many Alphas at once. You always surprise and delight me." He kissed John lightly and stood up.

"Don't go." said John suddenly. "This is my own room, and what goes on in here is private isn't it? I'm not in heat, but I'd like you to stay. Please?"

"I'd like that, if you're sure that's what you want." Peter replied.

"I'm sure," said John, pulling Peter down onto the bed again and kissing him.

They took it slowly, and it was tender and sweet. Peter held John and stroked him all over until he was begging for release. Only then did Peter climb on top of John and take him and fill him, pressing himself into John to touch the deep places inside that made him gasp. They were both panting as they neared their climax when Peter reached down between their bodies and grasped John's cock, jerking him off in rhythm with the thrusts of his hips. John threw back his head and groaned as the pleasure thrilled through him in sharp spikes along every nerve. Hearing and feeling John's excitement peak beneath him tipped Peter over the edge as well, and he came hard into John, filling him with warmth.

John's pheromones when he was not in heat were not strong enough to induce Peter to form the knot, so they slid apart after only a few minutes. This time the sex had been not heat driven, but purely for their mutual comfort and pleasure. Peter rolled off John and reached over to the bedside table for some tissues to clean them both. When that was done, Peter lay down next to John and pulled him close with a sigh.

"Thank you, John, dear. I think you helped me as much then as you did during the debrief."

John wrapped his arms around Peter's waist. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate your time and attention."

"Always. It's no trouble, John. You take care of us and we take care of you." Peter kissed the tip of John's nose.

"I… I love you, sir."

"And I love you too." Peter glanced down at John's flushed cheeks. "We all love you. The relationship between a Unit Omega and the Unit Alphas is a very intense one, but don't go falling in love with me, John." Peter sighed. "Or any of us. You won't be here forever, I can tell."

John's mouth set in a stubborn line. "Yes I will. I'm as loyal as any Bootneck, you'll see. I'll wear a green lid for the rest of my life."

"No, you won't John, or I hope you won't." Peter hugged him tightly. "It will be a privilege to work with you for as long as you want to stay, but you are too tender, too giving, too empathetic to do this forever. You'll burn yourself out if you try. You will do this for a few years, three maybe, or even five. Then you will need to go find yourself an Alpha of your own to bond with and let him heal you."

"Well then, let me bond with you, sir! I can stay and be the Unit Omega if I'm bonded to you!" John whined.

Peter hugged him again and then carefully released him. "You're very sweet, but it wouldn't be good for you. No. Be our Omega and love us for the time that you are here, then leave us with no regrets and no broken promises." He stood up and dressed, then left John with a final kiss on the lips. "Rest now, love, and join us in the mess hall for dinner." He closed the door quietly behind himself.

John stared at the closed door. "You're wrong," he said aloud. "I'll stay for life, and I'll show you." With his life plan settled firmly in his mind, John rolled over and went back to sleep.

* * *

_Whew! I'm exhausted after all that! I debated splitting this chapter into parts, but I think on the whole it flows better as one. Agree? Disagree? Leave me a review!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 6.**

John's next heat was three days late.

His 36-day cycle was a pain to track at the best of times, but he checked and double checked his calendar. He was definitely late. He told himself it was stress, or the strange shift hours and working through the night that was throwing his body clock off. It would correct itself in time. He just needed to give it time.

When his heat was five days late John finally cracked and went into the nearest town for a pregnancy test. He had a contraceptive implant which was only a year old and should have at least two more years to go. He could not be pregnant. Not even with twelve Alphas knotting him. Surely not.

He sat in the toilet stall first thing the next morning, as recommended on the packaging of the pregnancy test. He followed the instructions and carefully peed on the stick, then waited the required two minutes with a pounding heart. He stared at the second hand of his watch as it ticked around to the top, then flicked his eyes to the window at the top of the stick.

One line. Negative.

He blew out his held breath. He had known it was not likely. So now what, was he sick? Who should he ask about Omega hormonal variations? Bill was an army first aider not a doctor and an Alpha to boot, he probably would not be much help. He hesitated to call any of his superiors or RAMC doctors. He needed an endocrinologist, or at least someone with access to one.

He opened up his laptop and started searching online. Lots of rubbish theories about how to bring on heats, mostly by ridiculous physical manoeuvers or eating strange plants, and clearly directed at Omegas desperate to get pregnant. This was not helping.

He started looking through the sites for some more reliable medical information, and came across a link to the teaching hospital where he had trained before joining the army. He clicked on the staff list at St Bartholomew's and started scanning for any names that he knew. Perhaps one of his old tutors might be prepared to act as a contact for him. He ran his eye down the list and saw name he recognized from his own year level in medical school. A certain Mike Stamford was on the teaching staff at St Bart's. His specialty was not listed but he would definitely have access to the latest information. John clicked on his email address and started typing.

# # # # # # # # # #

Captain Spiers called John into his office later that day. "I notice you have not yet requested heat leave this month," he said quietly.

John shuffled his feet and looked at the floor. "I know. I'm… running a bit late this month. Probably stress with Daniel and everything."

The Captain looked concerned. "I hope you are well? If you need medical leave or anything else please let me know."

"Oh, no, nothing like that." John hastily reassured him. "I'm fine, probably just need to lay off the caffeine a bit and get to bed earlier. Nothing to worry about, really. Was that the only reason you wanted to see me, sir?"

"No, actually. I wanted to let you know that our new Unit member will be arriving tomorrow. It is quite fortunate you have not had your heat yet. It will help him integrate to the Unit to be part of your heat soon after he arrives."

John felt his stomach drop. How could he be expected to allow a new Alpha access to his body on a few days' acquaintance? He could go into heat the very same day the new Alpha arrived! It was different with his Unit Alphas. He had known them all several months before spending his first heat with them.

"Would it be all right if I sat this one out, sir? Passed it on my own in my quarters like I used to do? I'm not sure I'm ready for a new Alpha to… to be with me in that way, sir." John blushed. It was one thing to spend a heat with Peter. It was something quite different to be talking about his sex life with his Captain.

"Of course, it is totally up to you to decide. I can't and won't order you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." The Captain frowned slightly. "But do you realize how important, how central you are to our unit, John? Your inclusion of the new Marine could really help him integrate and be accepted by all the others. I realize it may be awkward for you, but consider how difficult it is going to be for Daniel."

John dropped his eyes to the floor. Of course it would be far harder for Daniel to accept a new team member to replace Jack. And yet, it was_ John's_ body the new Marine would be handling, stroking, penetrating…

"I'll think about it, sir," he finally answered. "My heat hasn't started yet, so it will depend a bit on how soon after his arrival it starts. I remember your instructions though, sir. All or none. If I can't accept him yet, I'll spend the heat alone in my quarters."

The Captain nodded slowly. "Thank you, John. I appreciate your giving some thought to the matter. I'll be introducing the new Marine at a unit meeting after breakfast tomorrow. Dismissed."

John wandered back to his office and checked his email again. There was an email from Mike already! He opened it with excitement, but was disappointed to see that it was simply an automated acknowledgement of receipt of his email promising that Mike would get back to him once he was in the office. Apparently Mike only worked part time at the hospital, as his main appointment was with the university. John sighed. There was nothing to do but wait.

# # # # # # # # # #

At the next morning's unit meeting the atmosphere was tense and expectant. Everyone knew already that the new Marine had arrived the night before and would be introduced to them today. No-one had seen him, but the rumour was that he was a new graduate. There had been a few groans at that, as they had been hoping for a transfer rather than a newbie, but with the unit not likely to be sent out on another mission until Daniel was fit again it made sense that they would be allocated a Nod to break in.

Everyone was milling around, waiting for the Captain to arrive. John noticed that people were coming even closer to him than the small size of the room required. They were trying to scent if he was starting his heat. John sighed and resolved to ask one of them later what he smelled like. Perhaps they would know if he was close. Bill or Matt would probably be the easiest to ask and John made a mental note to try to catch one of them alone later.

Just then the Captain arrived with the new Marine in tow. He was tall, well over six feet, probably close to four inches over. He almost had to duck to get through the doorway. He was wide too 'built like a brick shithouse' as the Marines rather inelegantly phrased it. His short blond hair was even lighter than John's and he had matching light blue eyes. He looked like an advertising poster for Marine recruiting.

"This is Private John Frydenberg," the Captain said. "He is a new graduate and I hope you will all make him welcome. He will be the new scout wingman for Prajeet, and Osman will pair with Daniel from now on. I hope you will all be supportive of the new pairs and the changes within the unit. Tomorrow we will start some working-up exercises to get everyone acquainted. Private Frydenberg, is there anything you would like to add?"

The new Marine smiled shyly. "I should just say that I don't usually go by John. There are so many Jacks and Johns that I've always been called Joe. I'd like to keep it that way, if that's all right with all of you."

Lt. Wright laughed. "Probably an excellent idea, considering that we already have a John in the unit who goes by John!" He waved at John to stand up, which he did promptly. "We may as well start the introductions with our RAMC loaner and Unit Omega. This is Lt. John Watson."

Joe looked John up and down and said, "I've never seen a Unit Omega before. Better stand on a chair John, you're just a little fella. Can I call you Little John?"

John flushed with anger. "No, you can't," he said flatly. "I'll have you know that I've served on three continents and seen more action that you have. So can I call _you_ Little John?"

Joe chuckled, "Well, I wouldn't be the first big guy to go by Little John, so yes, if you like. I'll call you 'Three Continents Watson' and be sure to show you appropriate respect." John had the uneasy feeling that the eyes Joe swept over his body were anything but appropriate or respectful. Even if he had never seen a Unit Omega before he didn't need to stare at John quite so… enthusiastically. John hoped his heat would come soon, so he would have a reason to put off mating with Joe. He left the meeting without waiting to hear the rest of the introductions.

# # # # # # # # # #

John spent the rest of the day hiding in his quarters. He had his pager if anyone needed urgent medical attention, but short of a major injury there was nothing he was needed for right now. His equipment was all stocked and up to date and the paperwork could always wait another day.

The only good thing that came of his self-isolation was that he was able to read Mike's email as soon as it arrived. The email was chatty and reassuring telling him mostly what he already knew; that being less than a week overdue was nothing to worry about, it was probably stress and that he should try to stop thinking about it. Good advice, but unfortunately impossible to take. At the end of the email Mike had attached a PDF containing a list of suggested (but mostly unproven) ideas for bringing on heats. John eyed the list with disgust. Most of the ideas on it were frankly ridiculous. There was no way he was eating mint and catnip while lying on his back with his feet in the air. He was getting desperate enough for his heat to try a few of the less stupid things though. Some of the suggestions sounded not too crazy. He could protein-load easily enough, and get an Alpha's shirt to sleep with and smell. That would be easy enough to do and if it kick-started his heat, all the better.

Feeling more cheerful and more prepared, John stuck his head into Lt. Wright's office to ask him for a loan of an old shirt. He was alone and waved for John to come in and take a seat in front of his desk.

"John, come in. What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Oh, well, this is a bit embarrassing actually. Can I borrow one of your shirts? I need some Alpha pheromones." John blushed.

"Ah," the Lieutenant nodded with immediate understanding. "I thought your heat was a bit late this month."

"Bloody hell, is everyone watching my calendar?" said John, with embarrassment.

The Lieutenant shrugged. "It's something we all look forward to, obviously. But the Captain and I have been watching the calendar with particular attention this month, yes. The first heat with a new unit member is always a tricky moment."

John folded his arms across his chest. "I've decided to spend this heat alone anyway, so don't get too worried about it. It won't happen until next month."

The Lieutenant's eyes widened. "You wouldn't do that! Would you? Does the Captain know?"

John stared at him. "Of course he knows, and he would never force me to do anything I'm not comfortable with."

The Lieutenant frowned. "Oh, of course he'd have to say that. But didn't he try to persuade you? It can be very… difficult if the unit is used to having an Omega around and then that access is withdrawn."

It was John's turn to frown. "He just said he hoped I'd think about it."

"Did he mention that if you want to spend your heat alone you should probably leave the base to do it?"

"No, I didn't know that." John was surprised.

The Lieutenant stood up and came from around his desk to stand leaning over John in his chair. "You smell so good, and we've got used to having you around. If you go into heat in your quarters, you could have Marine Alphas trying to break your door down to get to you. And I don't think you've realized what an effect we have on you either. You're asking for my shirt to get you into heat – don't you think when you are there you will want the real thing?"

He leaned in close to John, scenting along his jaw and behind his ear and allowing John to scent him in return. Matt's personal scent of orange blossom and sandalwood was strong in the room but as he came closer John could also smell the Alpha musk of arousal on him.

John shrank down into his chair. "Are you suggesting they might try to… to force me, if I didn't allow them access to me during my heat?"

Sensing John's fear, the Lieutenant stepped back to give John space and pursed his lips as he thought. "I don't think so," he said finally. "But it would be difficult for everyone and it is probably better not to tempt fate. If you are determined to do this, I strongly suggest removing yourself from the base entirely. I'm not sure I would want to be responsible for the subsequent events if something did get… out of control."

John chewed his lip in thought. "I hadn't realized it could get quite that bad."

The Lieutenant gave him a crooked smile. "Surely it isn't all bad?" he murmured. "I got the distinct impression there were parts of being a Unit Omega that could be quite… enjoyable." He returned to his own side of the desk and sat down again. "I have a suggestion. How about you don't try to bring on your heat – just let it happen. Give it a few days to let Joe settle in and see how you feel."

John nodded. "All right, that sounds reasonable." He cocked his head. "If I can ask, how do I smell to you?"

The Lieutenant gave him a genuinely joyful smile. "Delicious, like vanilla cream and honey. When you go into heat there is a touch of cinnamon as well. The combination reminds me a bit of my mother's spiced vanilla cheesecake, actually." He tried to swallow the saliva filling his mouth unobtrusively, but John noticed. "How do we smell to you?" he asked in return.

John thought about it. "You all have the underlying Alpha musk, which is more dominant at different times, but you have a variety of fruits and flowers as your personal scents. You smell like orange and sandalwood. The Captain smells like freshly cut grass. Bill reminds me of something like peach and pear. Daniel smells homey, like cherry pie."

The Lieutenant leaned back in his chair and gave John a long look. "Well, cherry pie and cheesecake sounds all too tempting to resist. Think about how well we all do together before you make your final decision. You can still have one of my shirts if you want it." He raised one eyebrow at John.

John hesitated. "I'll let you know," he said finally, and left the office.

# # # # # # # # # #

John's heat was nine days late and he was just about climbing the walls. He could feel the hormones building up in his body without release. His glands felt swollen and tender and he was irritable with everyone. When Tony came into the first aid station for some paracetamol John sent him away with a royal chewing-out and told him that he was being 'cut off' and would have to supply his own hangover cures from now on. John rather sarcastically told him that swallowing bacon rind on a string for easy retrieval was now recommended in some circles.

The rest of the unit was settling in nicely. The first few exercises had been a bit rough around the edges, but the new pairs were working together increasingly smoothly. Osman and Daniel had hit it off so well everyone was starting to call them 'Os-Dan'. Prajeet and Joe were being referred to as 'Jeet and Joe' by everyone except John.

John was still having trouble warming to Joe, and the new Marine was awkward with John as well. Sometimes he would stare at John or stand far too close, crowding John and scenting him at the most inappropriate moments. Other times he almost seemed to be avoiding John. Normally John would just put it down to newbie nerves and let it slide until everyone was used to each other, but at the moment with the pressure of his approaching heat every time he saw Joe he felt like punching him.

Everything came to a head one afternoon when Bill came into the sick bay while John was at lunch. He was looking for some dressings for a deep scratch on Nick's shoulder, but he had been unable to find what he wanted. Instead of waiting for John to come back from lunch he had rummaged through the whole dressings trolley disordering everything that John had carefully sorted and stowed the night before.

When he saw the mess John completely lost his temper and started shouting at Bill and at Nick, ranting about being unappreciated and taken for granted and how he was sick of Marines, of Alphas in general and of this unit in particular. He was just getting stuck into how much he hated the weather in Afghanistan and why isn't it possible to get decent coffee here, when the Lieutenant walked in, undoubtedly attracted by the sound of yelling.

The Lieutenant took one look at the situation and herded Bill and Nick out the door. He closed it behind them and sat with folded arms until John ran out of invective and paused for breath.

"John, you need to take some personal leave," he said quietly.

"I'm not in heat!" exclaimed John.

"No, and that might be part of the problem, but the stress is getting to you. Take some down time, get away from the base if you like. Your heat will start when it starts, and when you come back to us afterwards you'll feel better. You nearly lost it today. If the Captain had seen this, or worse someone from outside the unit, you might be facing disciplinary action."

"It's Joe!" yelled John. "If he hadn't come here I'd be fine!"

The Lieutenant took John by the upper arm and started marching him out of the sick bay and back to his quarters. "It isn't Joe," he said quietly, "It's you. You're allowing your hormones to influence you until you are so erratic he doesn't know how to respond to you. Sometimes you flaunt yourself in front of him, sometimes you are so standoffish he thinks he's offended you."

"He _has_ offended me!" John was almost in tears, but they were just at the door to his quarters by now so the Lieutenant shoved him inside and closed the door behind them. "Didn't you hear him call me 'Little John' that first day?"

"Sure, we all did. Then you gave him a right set-down and that should have been the end of it. Christ, John, listen to yourself! You've never been the kind to hold a grudge before, let alone over something as petty as a silly nickname which has never even been mentioned again. You need to take leave, as soon as possible and get your heat over with and your head together. I'm saying this as a friend, John. Don't make me take official notice of this situation."

He left John alone then, to cry out his over-wrought feelings. He hated Joe. He hated Jack for leaving. He hated being an Omega and he hated that everyone wanted to screw him and that was all they saw him as useful for. He hated Afghanistan, the army, all Marines and all Alphas. Most of all he hated Matt, for being right.

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_Poor John! Sorry to leave him in such a state, but this chapter got ridiculously long and had to be split into two. Second half should go up quite soon, probably tomorrow. Please review!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 7.**

_Hints of dub-con sex here. It's pretty low-key stuff for the Omegaverse, but if you have triggers for it maybe skip to the next chapter. I'm sorry to say you won't miss much on the plot front…_

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The next morning John joined some of the unit at breakfast in the mess hall. He couldn't help noticing some of the uneasy glances around the table, especially between 'Jeet and Joe, and he kicked himself for letting it all go this far.

"Look, guys, I'm really sorry about how I've been lately," he said. "I've been a bit on-edge, but it isn't your fault and I shouldn't have been taking it out on you." He nodded to Joe in tacit acknowledgement that he deserved a special apology. "I'll try to rein it in, but until this next heat is over I suggest you only come into the sick bay if you are really sick!"

The Marines all chuckled and the tension in the air cleared significantly. Tony even offered to fetch John some extra bacon and Joe asked him how he liked his coffee. He made it with too much milk, but John thanked him and drank it anyway.

He spent the rest of the day in his office and had just nicked off back to his quarters early when his pager went off with an urgent summons back to the first aid station. He snatched up his stethoscope and jogged across the short distance back to the sick bay.

Bill was leaning over one of the examination couches where Joe was lying on a bloodstained towel. He looked up as John entered the room. "So sorry to call you back when I know you'd just left, but this is a pretty nasty gash and I wanted your opinion on whether or not it can be sutured. I've washed it out already but I think if we suture it closed there might be too much tension on the stitches. Do you think it might need a skin graft?"

John looked at the laceration down Joe's shin. It was long and deep and looked very painful. Joe was lying still with his eyes closed. John whispered to Bill "Did you sedate him?"

Joe opened his eyes. "No, I just don't like the sight of my own blood." He grimaced. "It was a stupid accident. I was standing on the back of one of the vans hauling in some equipment when I lost my balance. I laid open my shin on the edge of the towbar. Hurt like hell, but I think it's a clean cut. Just sew me up, doc, and send me back out. I can handle it."

"Hmmm," said John, inspecting the wound. "There's quite a bit of machine oil or grease or something around the edges. I'm going to need to debride it thoroughly before I close or it will get hopelessly infected and then you'll be laid up for a week on antibiotics. The good news is that I think I _can_ close it, even though it is right over the shin bone."

John turned and said to Bill over his shoulder "Get me a suture tray with an extra bottle of skin prep and I'll wash this out and suture it. Better get some local too. Let's use lignocaine with adrenaline, two ampoules please." John scrubbed his hands and donned a surgical gown and gloves, then injected the local anaesthetic. By the time he was finished Joe was sweating and his eyes were wide and glassy.

"Hold on there, the worst is over," said John. "Once the local kicks in you'll be nicely numb and won't feel a thing for the rest of it." Joe only gave a non-committal mumble in reply and closed his eyes.

The next hour passed quickly for John with professional concerns about sterile technique, how much washing out the wound needed and how close together to place the sutures. Too far apart and there would be too much tension on each stitch and the wound would gape. Too close together and there would be more scarring than necessary. Not that Marines cared that much about scarring anyway, they usually viewed scars as bragging opportunities more than anything, but it was a matter of professional pride for John.

Finally it was all done and the wound was closed neatly and a tidy dressing stuck over it. John straightened up and groaned. He leaned back to stretch out his spine and started shedding his surgical gown. He was sweating after an hour suturing under the examination lamps. It was easy to forget how hot they were until you were gowned and gloved and working directly under the lights. He tossed his sweat-soaked greens into the laundry basket. Nothing to be done about his sweat-soaked shirt though. He should hit the showers before heading back to his quarters. Actually a cool shower sounded good, now that he thought about it. The room was bloody hot even without the lights right next to his head. When did that happen?

He shook Joe gently by the shoulder, "Hey, wake up, it's all over. You can head back to your quarters and resume normal duties tomorrow. Try not to get the dressing dirty or wet for at least three days. After that come back to Bill for a dressing change. I'll take the sutures out after seven… Why are you looking at me like that?"

Joe's eyes had snapped open and he was staring hungrily at John. "You smell so good. I want to lick you like an ice-cream…" He blushed crimson. "Oh God, what am I saying? Bill, I think I'd better get back to my quarters."

John started violently as Bill slid up behind him and started scenting along the back of his neck. "Mmmm, John? You know that heat we've all been waiting for? I think it's here. You have about ten seconds to either clear out of here or take your trousers off. After that, I'm ripping them off you."

John cold feel Bill's hardness against his backside, and his body was suddenly trembling with lust. Every thought he had pushed away while he was concentrating on the wound surged to the front of his mind. Bill's peach and pear scent was combining with Joe's apple and cinnamon to make his mouth water. He vaguely recalled that he had plans to go offsite for this heat, but now he could not remember why he had wanted to do that. His unit was here, his Alphas were here and now his heat was here. Why would he want to leave? He had so many wild ideas crowding his head, he could hardly decide who he wanted to come in his mouth and who should penetrate him.

Convenience triumphed when he realized that Joe was already lying flat on a bed and in the perfect position for being mounted. He stripped off his own clothes and started clawing at Joe's pants. He was in danger of disturbing the new dressing until Bill helped ease the clothing over the wound. By the time John climbed on top of Joe he was already wet with his own natural lubricant. John was rather proud of the fact that even with a whole unit of Alphas he had never required any artificial lubricant. He slid down the whole length of Joe's erection and seated himself in Joe's lap, rocking his hips slightly to get the best angle and moaning with satisfaction when he found it. Joe groaned at the sensation of John's wet heat engulfing him completely. Bill was kissing John's neck and shoulders when John had a fantastic idea. He turned and leaned down but couldn't quite reach Bill's cock with his mouth. He whined in desperation to be filled properly at both ends.

Despite the hormonal haze, Bill remembered that the examination beds had an adjustable height facility. He lowered the bed as far as it would go, bringing John's mouth into striking range of his cock. John attacked and slid Bill into his mouth as far as he could manage, stroking the underside with his tongue and swirling around the head each time Bill withdrew.

In this position John was not able to move around much, but Bill and Joe took care of that for him. He was pinned between them, writhing in ecstasy as Joe thrust into him from below and Bill fucked his mouth. He was filled, fulfilled and the hormones flushing through his body swept the last conscious thoughts away as he climaxed all over Joe beneath him. Bill came in his mouth immediately after, driven over the edge by John's moans of pleasure vibrating through him. Joe gave a few more thrusts and then came, filling John with his hot fluids.

Bill flopped into one of the chairs as John collapsed on top of Joe and there was satisfied silence in the room for a few minutes. Bill finally stirred and said "We should let the Captain know. He's been waiting rather anxiously for your heat."

"Mmmm," mumbled John without moving or opening his eyes.

Joe sighed and rubbed his hands up and down John's back as John purred and arched into his touch. "So, that's what it is like with an Omega in heat. I think you've spoiled me for all those Beta girls I've been chasing."

Bill laughed. "Not just any Omega, our John is one of a kind. They broke the mould when they made him. But we should get you up and back to your quarters. You can have another go with John tomorrow. There will be other people wanting his attention now."

Bill came over to John and helped him to climb down off the examination table. He whimpered a little as he was peeled off Joe and felt the knot slip out of his body. Bill kissed him and helped him onto the bedroll he had already spread on the floor. "John, honey, will you be all right alone for a few minutes? I've paged Matt and he's on his way over with Nick, but I should get Joe back to his quarters. Assuming he can walk, that is."

Joe groaned. "Forget about the wound, it's the shagging that's made me too weak to walk!" Nevertheless he swung his legs down off the bed and tested his balance on his feet. His trousers had been torn in the same fall which had injured his leg, so with a shrug he threw them straight into the bin. He took an examination gown and wrapped it around his hips instead. With Bill's help he limped out of the room. On the way out Bill hung his old sign on the door. The one which had been altered to read, "Service John".

Two Alphas had already been through, the Lieutenant was on his way with another one. Soon there would be more Alphas inside him and the whole unit would be back in balance with him at its centre. He was doing all his jobs and the wheels were turning smoothly once again. Satisfied that all was as it should be, John allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

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_Please review!_

_Also, be aware I'm going into hospital again soon, so this fic will not be updating for at least a week, but I have big plans for my John! And eventually there will be an appearance by Sherlock too..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 8.**

_Two years later…_

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John dressed carefully in his best formal Blues. He pinned his medals and service bars on his chest, straightened his hat and inspected his appearance in the mirror. Perfect. He checked the time and found he was running ten minutes early. Nerves will do that. Should he add some cologne? No, better not overdo it. Besides, he wanted his natural scent for this interview.

On the mark of 16:30 exactly (last appointment of the day) he walked into the office of Captain Peter Spiers, saluted and stood at attention in front of the Captain's desk. The Captain looked up from his paperwork and did a visible double take. "John! Or rather," he stood up and formally returned John's salute. "Captain Watson. Please, stand easy. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

John remained in a formal 'at ease' posture as the Captain slowly reseated himself behind his desk. "I would like to discuss my future career with this unit."

"Ah. Your future. Yes." The Captain frowned. "Your recent promotion means that you are technically overqualified for this position in our unit. If you wish to request a transfer to a larger unit I will of course support your application. I will admit to some surprise, however. I had thought you were happy here and I did not realize you were ambitious to climb the military ladder."

"Transfer, that's the problem, yes." John nodded firmly. "I have no intention of transferring or allowing myself to be transferred out of this unit under any circumstances."

The Captain looked relieved but did not comment.

John continued. "I agree that my promotion is actually a potential problem in this instance. I wish to ensure that I cannot be transferred out of this unit."

The Captain raised both eyebrows. "And how do you plan to ensure that? I will not cooperate with any scheme to have you demoted."

"No, sir. That was not what I had in mind. I was thinking of a more formal connection with the unit. Captain, sir, two years ago I asked you to bond with me. You refused, on the very reasonable grounds that I was new and potentially a temporary addition to the unit, and that I did not realize what Marine life was like after merely six months. I have come to renew that offer, and to request that you reconsider bonding with me." John dropped the formal manners and came around to the Captain's side of the desk. He slid to both knees in front of the Captain's chair.

"Peter, please, I've been here for nearly three years and you have no reason to doubt my loyalty. If we were bondmates I couldn't be transferred out against my will, and you know that unless we do something I _will_ be transferred and probably quite soon. The unit would benefit from having me here permanently. You never said that you disliked the idea of bonding with me, so I would be honoured to wear your collar." John dropped his eyes to the floor and waited with held breath.

"John." The Captain's voice was low and soft. "You've given me a lot of good and logical reasons for wanting to bond with one of us, but I can't help wondering, why me? Do you have any personal reasons for this decision? Bonding with someone is not usually done for career choice reasons."

"Personal reasons? Yes, sir, I do. With the promotion of Matt and Nick, and Daniel's retirement and my own promotion I feel like everything is changing. I want to hold on to what we have here, sir. And as you said two years ago, I love being the Unit Omega but it is rather impersonal. I want a more intense personal relationship with you, sir. Of course I will still spend my heats with the unit as a whole, I won't neglect my responsibilities there, but I want to spend every night in the same person's arms and have that Alpha-Omega bond that I've seen other Omegas have."

"John." The Captain sat back and carefully refrained from touching John's hand where it rested on the arm of his chair. "Loneliness and fear are not a good basis for building a relationship."

"Sir! That's not what I said!" John protested.

"Isn't it? You spoke of change and how you want to hold on to the present. Isn't that another way of talking about fear of the future? You spoke of wanting a more intimate bonding experience but you never said you loved me, personally."

"I do, sir!"

"No, you don't John. If you did you would have said that first." The Captain looked rather sad.

"Sir, please! I like and respect you and I think we could build something good together." John gripped the arm of the chair with both hands. "Please, don't send me away empty handed."

"John, listen to me, you don't really want to do this. You are already a Captain, you have a shining career ahead of you in the RAMC if you want it. Or you could finish your tour and have a civilian career as a surgeon. I'm twenty years older than you and still a Captain posted to a small unit of Marines in Afghanistan. I'll never leave the army and in all probability never return to England. Believe me, you don't want to bind yourself to me."

"I do! I do!" John was crying openly now. "I don't want to return to England, I don't care about England. I want to work and to share the work with someone who understands it and me. I'll never find that back in England. I need to belong to someone and I don't think I'll ever find a better match than you, sir."

"Oh, so you're feeling the biological clock ticking and you've decided to settle for what's available, is that it?" The Captain said, rather contemptuously. "All Omegas get that way sometimes. Is your heat due soon? Go and have a cold shower and a nice lie down and you'll feel better."

"How dare you!" John hissed. He climbed to his feet and swept the tears out of his eyes. "This is nothing to do with my heat, and I don't need you to condescend to me."

"No, you don't. You probably don't need me at all, is that right?"

"No, I don't! My offer is withdrawn. Let's forget we ever had this conversation." John straightened his back and stalked out of the office without waiting to be dismissed.

The Captain picked up his desk telephone and pressed a speed dial number. It picked up after only two rings. "Luke? Could you cover my unit for the evening, please? Something has come up and I need to head into town. … No, nothing much, I was just hoping you could take my calls for the evening. … Well, you know our RAMC loaner, John? I've just done him a favour and I feel the need to get away for a bit. … Not a celebration exactly, no. I'll probably get drunk though. … Thanks, mate, I owe you one."

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John ran back to his quarters and tore off his Blues, still fuming. How dare the Captain speak to him like that? As if he was hormonal and stupid and just an Omega with no brain? Obviously he had completely misunderstood the Captain's character and it was a lucky escape that they were not going to bond after all. A cold shower and a nice lie-down indeed! John would show him he didn't need a bond-mate, didn't need anyone. All John needed was a big Alpha cock, and fortunately he knew exactly where to find as many as he wanted…

John stalked into the main barracks dormitory and everyone present stared. John rarely came in here. If he wanted to talk to any of the unit he tended to stand at the door and call them out to him or page them to the sick bay. He always said the scent of Alpha in the barracks was too overpowering. On the rare occasions he did come into the dorm, he had never dressed like _that_ before either.

Now John was standing in the middle of the barracks, wearing his oldest and tightest exercise gear. A sleeveless tank showed off his arms and the back of his neck, and the shorts were tight enough to leave no ambiguity as to why he was here. He had obviously been for a run. The sweat was pouring off him and carrying a heavy wave of pheromones with it. He was not in heat, but he was obviously in the mood. The only question was who was going to get to him first.

'Jeet and Joe exchanged looks, as did Osman and Ben. Tony and the new recruit, Finbar, looked resigned to missing out as the others moved in on John. The half of the unit that had gone to dinner already was certainly going to regret missing this!

John stretched, consciously drawing attention to his body and allowing his top to ride up to show bare skin. "Boys," he drawled. "I'm thinking of going to bed early tonight. I need someone to tuck me in. Whoever can catch me, that is!" With that, he turned on his heel and bolted out the door with four Alphas in eager pursuit.

John was in sparkling form. He had already warmed up and was determined to give the Alphas a run for their money before allowing himself to be caught. He ran through the camp, laughing and enjoying his own strength and speed and his display of desirability.

Marines are not exactly slow off the mark, especially with such a tempting reward for their efforts and both pairs of Marines had been working together for years. 'Jeet and Joe split up and ran around opposite sides of the mess hall. Osman chased straight after John while Ben took a short cut to John's quarters in the knowledge that he must end up back there eventually.

John ran and dodged with delight. He did not dare look back although he knew they were chasing him. He was in good shape but his shorter legs were a disadvantage. He needed to find somewhere to hide before doubling back. He knew they would stake out his quarters, so his intention was to go to ground in the sick bay. That had _two_ beds and he would be sure to reward the smartest Marine, or Marine pair, that could find him.

He had underestimated their level of motivation. As he crawled out from under the quartermaster's store building Joe pounced on him and lifted him over his shoulder, crowing triumphantly. "Got him! I caught myself a little mouse with a very nice tail!" He slapped John lightly on the arse.

"Aww, you have to share!" shouted Osman. "I chased him into your arms!"

John kicked his legs and pretended to struggle, confident that Joe would not drop him, and giggled in Joe's ear. "Now, now, boys, there's plenty of me to go around. How about we head back to my room and I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."

"I'd know where I'd rather come," muttered Joe as he set off at a jog towards John's quarters.

Prajeet caught up with them at the same time as they met Ben. Both pouted at their opposite numbers and begged so hard to be included that John magnanimously invited them all into his room.

Joe threw John down onto his own bed and stood over him, panting. "That doesn't look big enough for all of us at once," he observed. "If we have to take turns, I'm going first."

"Wouldn't you rather _come_ first?" asked John coyly.

"Right, that's it." Joe started stripping off his clothes as fast as possible and throwing them on the floor. "Get ready to take it as hard as you can."

"You mean as hard as _you_ can," returned John wriggling vigorously to get his very tight shorts off. "I can take whatever you can dish out."

"Mmmm, very dishy…" murmured Ben from John's desk chair.

"Assume whatever position you'd like to be in when I fuck your brains out." Joe warned, then pounced. John was lying on his stomach on the bed, but Joe grabbed his hips and pulled him up onto his hands and knees. "That's better, now 'Jeet can have access to your cock as well. We're used to sharing…" He groaned and stopped talking as he sheathed himself fully inside John's hot body in one smooth stroke. He rolled his hips slowly, clearly enjoying the moment and not wanting to take it too fast just yet.

Prajeet slid himself under John and stared at his fully erect cock for a moment before taking it in his hand and stroking it from root to tip. "Small, but responsive. Does this feel nice, John?"

"Oh God, yes," John gasped. "Same number of nerve endings as you've got in yours, only closer together. Feels wonderful."

"Mmmm," returned Prajeet. "I never knew that. I'm guessing you'll like this too, then." He opened his lips and slid onto John's cock, taking the whole length into his mouth. John groaned and bucked his hips forward, causing Ben to laugh.

"I'm guessing that's a yes!" Ben remarked from where he was watching.

"My turn too," announced Osman. "I wanna kiss those pretty lips. Last heat I only got to take you from behind and I missed your mouth, John." Osman wriggled onto the top end of the bed, leaning against the bed head and kissing John thoroughly. The angle was a little awkward, but John still managed to get his tongue into Osman's mouth for a moment.

Then Joe dragged him back by his hips and he lost contact with Osman. It was probably for the best, as Joe was now slamming into him from behind hard enough that he would have cracked his skull against Osman's anyway.

Prajeet and Joe were now coordinating their strokes, with Joe pushing into John and then Prajeet stroking his cock as Joe withdrew. The combined stimulation was heavenly and John laughed a little as he remembered that when Joe arrived on their unit he had never even seen a unit Omega before. Now, he seemed to have mastered all the necessary skills for nailing John in concert with his wingman.

"I'm glad you think this is funny," gasped Joe from behind. "Because I'm going to fill you with come in a minute, and then Ben can take over and keep fucking that tight little arse of yours." He gave three more powerful thrusts with his hips then went still, though John could feel his cock twitching inside him as he filled John with his seed.

John gasped with the sudden flush of warmth through his body, and pushed Prajeet away hurriedly. He wasn't ready to come yet. "Hey, 'Jeet, if you slide up here a bit I'll return the favour."

Prajeet didn't need to be asked twice. Osman obligingly moved out of the way, and Prajeet took his place at the head of the bed kneeling so that his cock was at the right level for John to reach with his mouth. Ben had taken Joe's place behind John, and now slid into his body.

Ben groaned. "Oh, God, John. You feel so hot and wet. It's like you're in heat, you're so fucking wet. That's one of the things I've always liked about doing it with you, John. Can't stand using bloody lube. Unnatural chemicals all over my cock, forget it! This," he punctuated the word with a thrust of his hips, "is the only way to fly."

"You are such a motor-mouth, Ben," observed Osman. "Can't you shut up even for two minutes while you do John? Fuck, I don't know how John can stand it."

"Two minutes?" said Ben indignantly. "I'll have you know that I was the first to please John and to convince him to become our Unit Omega in the first place."

"No, you weren't," John interrupted. "Bill was the first, then you and Matt."

"Details," sniffed Ben. "You can't deny that I was one of the reasons you decided to do it."

"Nope," said John. "I just did it for access to the Captain's secret stash of lemon butter."

"What?" laughed Joe from somewhere out of John's range of vision. "I don't think I know this story."

Prajeet said, "I'll tell it, John. You can go back to what you were doing." He pushed his hips forward meaningfully and John obligingly took his prick back into his mouth. He did not need to move at all, as Ben's forceful thrusts moved him enough to create friction up and down Prajeet's shaft.

"Mmm, thanks John, that's nice." Prajeet murmured. "Oh yes, the Captain's lemon butter. Well, the Captain has a private supply of lemon butter which he gets sent over from England, I think from his sister. It reminds him of home, apparently. He tries to make it last, so he doesn't share it often, but apparently he once gave John some – by getting him to lick it off his cock!"

John released Prajeet's dick with a pop. "Yes, but only once. The Cap is lucky that I don't especially like it. Isn't lemon and butter a bit of a weird combination?"

"Well," sniggered Ben, "Lemon and butter and cock sounds a bit odd, now you mention it."

Prajeet shrugged. "No stranger than orange marmalade, when you think about it. Much better than that abomination of a food that goes by the name of 'Marmite'. Don't ever bring that stuff near me again."

"It isn't meant to be eaten with a tablespoon," rebuked Joe.

"I thought it was some kind of chocolate spread at first, but I was wrong," recalled Prajeet with a shudder. Then he shivered and moaned for an entirely different reason as John's talented tongue rubbed over his frenulum. "Oh, John, I'm going to…" he broke off with a gasp and threw his head back as his climax caught him by surprise. He sighed and sank back against the head of the bed.

John smiled and licked his lips. "I think it's Osman's turn next, or would you rather have Ben's place?"

Osman stood next to the bed and reached his hand under John's body to grasp his erection. "I'll wait for Ben, but what on earth could I do in the meantime?" He started rubbing his fingertips over John's glans which was already wet with pre-come.

"Oh yes, just like that," hissed John. "Touch me like that, give it to me now!" John jerked his hips and thrust into Osman's fist a few times, then he was coming and spraying semen all over his bedspread. The rhythmic contractions of his body tipped Ben over the edge and he groaned and climaxed as John writhed under him.

John stayed on his hands and knees with his head hanging down, panting as Ben slid out of him and made his way back to the desk chair on shaking legs.

"Don't you dare get come all over my chair," John warned. "There are tissues here somewhere… Oh, thanks Joe."

Osman took Ben's place behind John. "Are you sure you're still OK for this?" he asked. "Not too sensitive?"

John shook his head. "I think there's so much lubrication back there you won't need to worry. Go for it, see if you can make me come again, I dare you."

Osman chuckled. "I doubt it. Not today anyway. Watching you getting screwed by half the unit has me so hard already I reckon it will be about thirty seconds before I come inside you. If Ben can keep his mouth shut, that is." He closed his eyes and rolled his hips into John slowly a few times before picking up speed and slamming into John as hard as he could. In less than a minute he was crying out and collapsing against John's back.

All four of the Marines helped John strip the bed and change the sheets, then 'Jeet and Joe had to leave for their duty shift. Osman and Ben elected to stay the night though, so John drifted off to sleep sandwiched between them. Who needed a bond-mate anyway?

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_Ta-da! I've never written a five-some before, and I just about needed to draw a diagram to keep track of everyone, but I thought John deserved some fun after all the angst. Please review and tell me what you think!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 9.**

_No new warnings for this chapter – I don't warn you for smut, I assume that's why you are here!_

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John went to get his coat before heading across to the mess hall for a late lunch. Winter in Afghanistan got bloody cold, and he had… left his coat in his quarters when he was paged urgently to sick bay this morning. Now he remembered. Damn. He rummaged through the cupboards, hoping someone had left behind something warm to wear. He was lucky enough to find a Marine overcoat left behind. The coat smelled a bit dusty, it had obviously been forgotten in the cupboard since last winter. It was much too large for him, but so much the better. It would trap more body heat that way. He gathered it in as much as possible and cinched the belt around his waist as small as it would go. Still too much room, but it would do for the quick run across to the mess hall where it was warm inside. He could then swing past his own quarters for a proper coat. Ducking his chin into the collar, John dashed out the sick bay and set a fast march for the mess hall.

He reached the hall to find a few people still milling around getting some late lunch. The hot food was sitting under heating lamps getting crusty, which John abhorred. He headed across to the sandwich bar and started assembling a salad sandwich for himself. He was just debating the merits of wilted lettuce versus wilted spinach when the sound of his own name drew his attention. He pulled his hat down over his face and started listening with intent.

"…Watson, the medic with Captain Spiers' unit? The short guy?"

"He's a disgrace to the RAMC. He barely made the height requirement for the Medical Corps. He looks ridiculous parading around among all those Marines."

"Oh, come on, that doesn't bother me. But is it true what they say about him…?"

"Yes. It's disgusting. I suppose in these days of political correctness an Omega has to be allowed into the RAMC, but to send him here! This is not a large base, and I'm sure everyone knows that he actually spends his heats _with_ his unit, if you know what I mean."

"Oh my God. You mean twelve Alphas and him…? Every month? I can hardly imagine… That's…"

"Disgusting, is the word you are looking for."

"Mmm, maybe. I wonder how he maintains discipline."

"Hmph. I imagine he bats his eyelids and promises them a blow job every time they follow one of his orders. It isn't good for the image of the RAMC to have a doctor carrying on like that. _And_ I heard that Captain Spiers specifically requested him. Must have known he was likely to be a slag before he even got here."

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think? I hear he's a good surgeon."

"Probably letting the whole surgical suite get a leg over. Bloody Omegas, disruptive to the service, that's what I've always thought."

"Well, it's not as bad as bloody Williamson, from Captain Archer's unit. I heard the other day he completely missed a fibula fracture until he sent the guy to the physiotherapists for remobilization and the _physio_ picked it up! Talk about embarrassing…"

The two speakers drifted off with their lunch to find a table. John looked down to find his hands shaking and his sandwich contents scattered all over his plate. It didn't matter. He wasn't hungry anyway. Keeping his head down, he headed back to sick bay and his work. He was a damn good doctor, regardless of what anyone thought of his personal life.

# # # # # # # # # #

John continued to brood over the conversation for the rest of the day. He knew that civilians generally whispered about what 'service Omegas' got up to, and that there were whole porn channels devoted to the subject. The navy Omegas seemed to get most of the air time, but there were plenty of puns and sniggering over the whole 'service' idea. Some of the porn vids had the most ignorant and ridiculous mix of uniforms, obviously the directors either had no idea or didn't care. When there were uniforms worn at all, that was. Most of the vids were completely ridiculous in other ways too, of course. He would never let anyone bugger him with a gun. That would be terribly uncomfortable, not to mention dangerous. Did the idiots who even made those films know what a real gun looked like? The sights on the barrel, for instance? They probably used water pistols for the movies, judging by the amount of lube that got thrown around. He snorted in recollection. Those films were obviously made by Alphas with heated imaginations.

Still, it rankled to have his own colleagues think of him in that way. They obviously thought his interactions with the unit would be affected by spending his heats with them. Well, in a way it did, but it was a good way. Captain Spiers certainly thought so, and the new Lieutenant with the Indian name had only been here one month so far but was integrating with the unit well, partly thanks to John. So the lot of them could just bugger off. He was a good doctor and a good bonding force for the unit as a whole and he refused to feel ashamed of his methods. Mostly…

# # # # # # # # # #

John was still worrying at the subject the next day when Bill came into the sick bay, so he decided to tackle the topic head on.

"Bill, do you think it is unprofessional for a doctor to also be a Unit Omega?"

Bill looked up, startled at the question. "Dunno. Never thought about it. Don't think so, why would it be? It isn't like you are trying to operate while taking it up the arse."

John snorted at the mental image. "Yeah, thanks for that considered opinion."

Bill folded his arms. "Well, what else would make it unprofessional? If you were trying to work while in heat, yeah, that could get… distracting." He winked at John, then became serious again. "But being an Omega doesn't influence your ability to remember anatomy, choose antibiotics or triage patients under stress. Sure, there are stupid bigots out there who think that all Omegas should be kept in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant or something like that, but those throwbacks are dying out anyway. Don't let what they think slow you down."

John thought about what Bill had said. It was all true, as far as it went. "How about for unit discipline? Do you find it hard to work with me knowing what we did together last week?"

"Nope." Bill shrugged. "Husbands and wives work together all the time and no-one blinks or even thinks it is strange. How many husband and wife teams do you know, especially in civilian life?"

"Heaps." John admitted. "Half my medical class bonded to each other. Probably because they were too busy to get out and meet other people."

"Yeah, you doctors are all eggheads, aren't you?"

"Thanks, I think," said John with heavy sarcasm. "But yes, there are lots of surgeon/anaesthetist pairs. Even more specialist/primary care doctor pairs. I know one doctor/nurse pair. The doctor is the Omega in that pair, actually. They had three boys last time I checked…" he broke off, musing.

"So having sex doesn't automatically make you a bad doctor then, does it? Nor does it make you unable to work with those you have sex with. So no problem, then. Where is the adhesive tape, anyway?"

John didn't answer, still caught up in his thoughts about married couples working together. His chain of thought was suddenly jolted by a realization. "But that's not what we have here. This is a twelve-Alpha unit with one Omega in the middle of it. None of us are bonded to each other. People seem to think I'm some kind of… slag." He said the last word quietly, and with some pain.

Bill's head came up quickly from rummaging through the dressings trolley. "Never," he hissed. "They have no right to judge what we do. They have no _idea_ what you do for us. Do you think Daniel would have recovered from his injury and continued with us for a whole 'nother year after losing Jack if not for you? You know you're the only one who can keep Tony on the wagon at all, and now we have a new Lieutenant who is blending in with the unit with practically no griping – do you even know how rare that is? Usually a new Lieutenant and the old Sergeant will have little bickers for dominance, sometimes all-out pitched battles. It can range from mildly annoying to downright disruptive to discipline. Did you not notice that we've had _none_ of that since you started with us?"

John had nothing to say. Of course he had no idea how the unit had functioned before he came. How could he?

"You think it is mildly amusing how the boys compete to make your tea the way you like it and to make sure you have the best piece of bacon at breakfast. In one light it is rather funny. But do you know how competitive Alphas can get without a focus? A unit of Marines on an isolated base like this can turn to fighting among ourselves. I've seen soldiers maim each other permanently in what was supposed to be a little dominance struggle that got out of hand. It's every Captain's nightmare. You don't know how glad Captain Spiers was to find you. He should have been down on his knees thanking heaven for you – before going down on his knees for something else entirely, of course."

"Yeah, well that's kind of the problem, isn't it?" John frowned. "Everyone assumes that my sexual function is what I'm really here for. That my medical skills are the secondary reason."

"Does it bother you what they think, when you know they are wrong?" Bill tilted his head slightly. "You were here for nearly six months before spending a heat with us. You've been a doctor for years working in NHS hospitals. You know what your medical skills are worth – no false modesty now. You know you're a bloody good doctor. And anyway, I bet they're just jealous! You're getting more action every month than they probably see in a year! And who wouldn't be jealous? You get to sleep with me!" Bill ran both hands down his own chest and wriggled his hips in a cheesy parody of a pole dancer's moves.

"Blimey, if I'd known _you_ were on this unit I'd never have accepted transfer in the first place!" John rolled his eyes at Bill's antics. "And anyway, the adhesive tape is here." John bunged it directly at Bill's face, but was disappointed not to score a hit. Bill's reflexes were Marine-fast and he caught it just in front of his nose.

"Thanks, mate. I gotta get back to the training ground. Let's talk about this problem you have with getting too much sex with twelve fit Booties later, OK?"

"Later," John agreed.

# # # # # # # # # #

John opened his room door later that night to find Bill standing in front of him with two bottles of beer.

"Hey, John. I just thought we could have a cold one and chat for a bit." Bill smiled shyly. "You seemed really bothered by some of the Omega stuff and I wondered if you'd like some company and sounding board to bounce ideas off."

John folded his arms over his chest. "You know I'm not in heat, right?"

Bill flushed. "Of course not, I wasn't think anything like that. This was just supposed to be a night of two buddies drinking and talking. Unless you'd like anything else, that is. But I wasn't presuming… I mean, I didn't necessarily think you would want to… Aw, shit, John. I dunno. I just don't like to see you second guessing yourself. I'm here to help and offer comfort of whatever kind you like. Take it or leave it." Bill threw up his hands, nearly breaking one of the beer bottles on the door frame.

"Hey, hey, no reason to waste perfectly good beer!" said John, rescuing the bottle. "Yeah, sorry for being a bit of a dick, I'm just… Come in, anyway."

"Thanks. I just wanted to make sure you weren't fretting yourself into, I dunno, premature baldness or anything." Bill perched on the edge of his seat and leaned forward earnestly. "We value you for everything you do, you aren't just a body that we use for fun, or anything like that."

"Mmm." John was unconvinced. "You sure think I'm fun some of the time."

"Well, yes, of course." Bill shrugged, "But that's not the main value you have for us, you know. There are ways to have fun off-site, as I'm sure you are aware. Most units don't actually get their fun within their unit. You are more than 'fun' – you are serious."

John snorted, disbelievingly.

"No, really. You are a healer for us in so many ways. You walk into a room and we all feel better. You touch my arm and I feel your confidence in me. You bandage something or stitch something and your smell lingers on our skin for days, reminding us that we are cared-for by you. You just sit and listen to me talk and I feel that you really see me, that you value me just as I am. You can calm our arguments and make our differences seem petty just by laughing at them. But you never laugh at us. The look in your eye when you look at us tells us that you love us and you want us to be happy together, all of us. Not just happy – good together. Strong. Like we 'can do', you know? I can't describe it better than that, but it's important. It matters to us. No wonder we all want to be close to you, to get next to you all the time."

By now Bill was leaning into John's shoulder, he turned his head and scented along under John's jaw and down his neck. "God, you always smell so good. It's not just about sex. Well, sometimes it is, but not always. It's mainly about being close to you."

"Mmm," John agreed. "Close is nice. Close is good. I think you're right about comfort. Shall we move this to the bed?"

Bill needed no further hints. He scooped John up into his arms and carried him to the bed. Carefully placing John in the middle of the bed, he slowly and tenderly peeled off all their clothes until they were skin on skin together. Then he licked and kissed all the exposed skin until John was a puddle of sensuality on top of his own covers. Only then did he climb on top and enter John, slowly rocking their hips together in a long ascent to their peak of pleasure. The climax came on them both suddenly, and they were crying out together in ecstasy. They were as close as they could be, and it was comfort to both of them.

As they fell asleep with Bill's arm curled around John's chest and resting over his heart, John intertwined his fingers with Bill's. Could they make something more of this? John started to think seriously about his future. He knew that Bill would never leave the Marines. The Service was his life and in his blood in a way that for John it was just… not. John felt the certainty crystallize in his mind. He might see another tour, maybe two, but he would not stay in the army for life. He would want to leave sometime, set up a civilian surgical practice, have a steady home – maybe even a family? Yes, John imagined building a nest and having pups, having Bill come home to him… No, that wasn't going to work. Captain Spiers? No, too old and like Bill, not wanting to leave the service. Well, never mind, a mate of some kind. A properly bonded Alpha who wouldn't share him with anyone else, who would be devoted and prepared to make sacrifices for him. Maybe a doctor? Another doctor would be a good match for him, someone who could understand the stresses of his life and who wouldn't be put off by his history as a Unit Omega. Well anyway, leave the face of the Mysterious Alpha a blank for now. For now, he had Bill's arms warm around him and the rest of the unit comfortingly close by. For now, that was enough. John slept.

* * *

_Sorry for putting John through more angst, but I really think that some people would have a problem with the social set-up I've described here of the 'Unit Omega'. Medicine is a terribly conservative profession, in general. What do you think? Please review!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 10.**

_Three months later…_

* * *

For the first time since becoming the Unit Omega, John felt the familiar prickle of heat sweat running down his back with annoyance. Was it thirty-six days already? His bloody heats seemed to come around so fast it was a wonder he ever got anything done. He stared at himself in the mirror in his quarters, assessing his face with doctor's eyes. He looked tired. His eyes were a little sunken, not badly enough to have dark rings underneath, just a little bit worn. There was tension in the set of his jaw and around his lips. Perhaps he needed a holiday? Some kind of change? He certainly needed something. Something apart from the obvious, which he was about to get whether he liked it or not.

John flopped into his desk chair and sighed. He needed to get his heat leave forms filled out and notify his replacement, then he should head over to the sick bay. Bleh. He was tired of it all, and in a way which seemed different from his occasional pre-heat tension. He needed a change of pace, but how to do it when he was about to spend four days being fucked every which way in his own first aid station?

John suddenly had an idea. He filled out the heat leave forms in his rapid and practically illegible doctor's scrawl and took them down to the Lieutenant's office. This was not something he wanted to discuss with Captain Spiers.

Tapping on the door of Lt. Chandran's office, John worried for a moment that he was being unreasonable. But this was something he felt he needed, and Lt. Chandran had always been approachable and would at least listen, even if he ended up refusing John's request.

"Enter."

John stepped into the office and pushed closed the door behind himself. "I've come to lodge my request for heat leave, sir."

The Lieutenant looked surprised in his usual dignified and slightly formal way. "It was not necessary to bring it in person. You know this, so there is perhaps something else you wanted to discuss?"

John blushed. "Yes, actually. I was hoping to change the conditions of my heat this month. I've never used the heat tent, but I was wondering if it could be set up for me?"

"Of course, if you wish it." The Lieutenant's expression was carefully neutral. "As you say, you have not, in the last four months I have been with this unit, ever used it before. May I enquire as to what has changed?"

"Oh, I don't know." John burst out, rather to his own surprise. "I just need something different, a change of some kind."

"Ah." Lt. Chandran tilted his head as he stared at John for a moment. "I have seen this before in Unit Omegas after a while. You have been on this unit for just over three years, I think?"

John nodded. "It's been great, all the guys have been great, really. I don't know what's the matter with me. I just need something… different. I'm feeling a bit touched out." John laughed rather self-consciously. "I'm not sure that's even a word, but it describes how I feel. Touched out, worn out, used up…" he shrugged, unable to name more specifically what was going on since he did not fully understand it himself.

The Lieutenant nodded. "If I may make a suggestion? How about a 'boyfriend experience'?"

"I'm sorry, a what?" said John.

"A boyfriend experience. You have never done this?" The Lieutenant looked surprised again. "It was routine on my previous unit, about every third or fourth heat the Omega would request that the unit members enter her heat tent one at a time and role-play being her boyfriend. This is what she called it; the 'boyfriend experience'. She said it fulfilled her emotional side and allowed her to continue being the Unit Omega for much longer than if she had been just a body, a vessel for heat hormones and their relief. Does this sound like something that might be helpful for you?"

John felt relief flooding through him. "Yes, yes it does. I'm not going crazy then – other Omegas have felt this way?"

"I have not had a great deal of experience with Unit Omegas, as you are only the third I have worked with so far. But both of the other two did this regularly. I am rather surprised that you have not."

"You don't think the guys on the unit will think it is kind of silly?" asked John, with hesitation.

"It worked well in the other units. The other two Omegas were both women, but I am not sure that this makes such a large difference as is commonly supposed. My suggestion is that we try it and see how you like it. If you find it is not working for you, we can always change back."

John nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Will you hang a sign on the tent flap, or what?"

The Lieutenant looked shocked. "Certainly not. That would be most indiscreet and not very romantic. Once the heat tent is set up I will inform the rest of the unit of the situation and of your expectations for their behaviour. I believe they will comply, once they realize the alternative is to not have any contact with you during this heat."

John gasped. "Can I do that? I always thought the whole unit had to be included in every heat?"

The Lieutenant smiled slyly. "The whole unit will be invited to participate, of course. If they choose not to do so under the stipulated conditions, that is their prerogative. It will not damage unit integrity if one or two Marines do not engage in the role play." He looked rather serious for a moment. "It might damage the unit much more if you felt unable to continue in your position with us. Go back to your quarters for now, and I will send someone to escort you to the heat tent once it is ready."

"Thank you, Lt. Chandran, sir. I appreciate your input." John saluted and exited the office.

# # # # # # # # # #

John waited in his quarters in rather a state of nerves. It had been a long time since he had gone on a date, and from Lt. Chandran's description that was close enough to what was about to happen. He had showered and changed into his dress uniform, as instructed. He now awaited his 'escort' to the heat tent. It was not clear to him why this was necessary. He knew where the heat tent was usually set up, even if he had never requested its use for himself.

Fortunately, before he could fret himself into a sweat and ruin the good of his shower, he heard a polite knock at his door. He flung it open and was startled to see Lt. Chandran himself standing there, with Ben and Finbar behind him. Lt. Chandran was wearing his full dress uniform as well, though the others were in ordinary fatigues. Even more surprising, Lt. Chandran seemed to have a bottle of wine under his arm. John's night was looking up.

"I apologize for the presence of the observers, John. However it seems that no-one on this unit knew what I was proposing for this heat, so I have come to demonstrate. The observers will not accompany us into the tent, but I am confident they will acquire some inspiration from what they are allowed to observe of our date. If you are ready, shall we walk?"

Lt. Chandran offered John his arm. John took it, with a rather self-conscious giggle. It felt a little odd to be so formal and yet it was exactly the kind of change of pace John had been hoping for. Even if they all knew how this 'date' would end, it was very nice to be wooed.

They sauntered through the camp to the mess hall which was practically deserted at this time of the evening. Lt. Chandran pulled out a chair for John and seated him at a table for two. He waved Ben and Finbar to another table a few metres away.

"Don't cramp my style, boys," he said with a wink. He obtained two wine glasses and poured for John and himself. He sipped from his glass and sighed happily. "These role-play heats were always my favourite, in fact. And not just because I get an excuse to break out a bottle of wine either. I was a little disappointed when it appeared that you were never interested in them, but of course it is totally your choice how to run your heats."

"It… it is?" said John.

Lt. Chandran frowned. "Of course. Who else should decide how you spend your heats? Surely your previous Lieutenant or Captain Spiers would never have presumed to dictate or pressure you as to how you behaved?"

"No…" replied John slowly. "Not really. I just got the impression that it was for bonding the unit together more than anything. There's twelve of you and only one of me, so I guess I always thought of it as a 'needs of the many' situation. And I get my own 'itch' satisfied too, of course."

"And did you never discuss it with the other Unit Omegas you know?" Lt. Chandran looked more curious than anything. "Although there is obviously no handbook on the topic, I had assumed that there would be a network of Omegas that would pass information around."

"I don't know." John shrugged. "There may well be, but there's only two other Omegas on the base and they are both flag flappers. I mean, based in Signals," he corrected himself hastily. "They probably get together and chat and I know they cover each other for their heat leaves, but there are no other RAMC staff Omegas that I'm aware of. My heat leaves get covered by one of the medics from one of the other units on the base but they aren't Omegas and I think they resent it a bit, actually. I don't talk to them much about it. I try to avoid bringing attention to it, in fact. I get the distinct impression they think it is not a professional way for a doctor to relate to his unit."

"Well," the Lieutenant obviously decided to drop the topic. "What they think is hardly the point at issue tonight. This is about _you_, and what you like. So, John," the Lieutenant reached over and caressed his hand where it lay on the table. "What do you like?"

John blushed a little and was about to reply when his concentration on Lt. Chandran's touch was broken by a snigger from the other table. Finbar was looking rather scornfully towards their linked hands.

"Is this what you really want, John?" he asked, disbelievingly. "You want hand holding, wine and flowers and _girly_ stuff? You want us to pretend to court you and then get down on one knee and offer you a collar? What's the point? We all know where this is going to end up, you're a sure thing. Don't you want to just get to it?"

Ben smacked Finbar across the back of the head. "Ever heard the expression 'the journey matters as much as the destination'? Just because you're an unromantic git doesn't mean the rest of us have to be. You don't want to show John some appreciation for a change? You can just miss out!"

The mood was broken and John started to stand up. "He's right. This is silly. Heats are just a biological itch that needs to be scratched. The frills don't matter." Even as he said it, he could feel the tears pricking at the back of his eyes. This evening had begun so well, but he had feared exactly this – that they saw him just as a body for their pleasure. Once the pheromones took over he could have been anybody and it would all be the same. Although he knew, had always known, that no serious feelings were involved, still it was nice to be courted and to feel like he had a choice and that they respected him. Now the illusion was over.

Lt. Chandran turned and glared at Finbar. "Shut the fuck up!" he hissed. They all started at the unusual profanity from their usually rather formal Lieutenant. "Do you seriously think the only needs of an Omega are for emotionless shagging? Or anyone, for that matter? Then shut up and grow up. If you ever expect to find a bondmate or even a serious partner then you need to realize that adult relationships involve a whole lot more than just sex, even great sex. Got it?"

Finbar nodded sheepishly. "Can I still stay?"

Lt. Chandran sat down again and nodded to John. "It's up to John. Tonight is about what he wants. Ask him, and I suggest starting with an apology."

Finbar turned inhis seat to face John, then changed his mind. He stood up, came to attention and saluted. When he spoke his voice was soft, but formal and sincere. "Captain Watson, I'm very sorry that I interrupted your date and required Lieutenant Chandran to give me a lecture. It won't happen again. I would appreciate it if you would let me stay and continue to observe," he gave a rather embarrassed smile. "It is obvious that I have a lot to learn."

John snorted through his nose at the last line. "Fine. Sit, Be quiet and you might learn something. Lt. Chandran here has pulling skills you can only dream of."

The Lieutenant smiled and drew John's attention back to himself. "As I was saying, tonight is about you, John. I have a suggestion that I'd like you to think about." He dropped his voice to a whisper. John was not sure if this was to prevent his words from being overhead at the next table or to create intimacy. Either way, it was working for him.

"I'd like to issue a challenge to the Marines. Each of them is to create a scenario for their date with you. They may slip you a piece of paper beforehand or just surprise you. I was thinking of making it a little competition for them, in which you would decide the winning scenario. How does that sound?"

John took a sip of wine and mulled over the idea. "As long as I get to veto anything too barmy. I don't want to be tied up and whipped, or rogered with a gun, or anything weird like that."

"No, no. These are _dates_, not a 'who can think of the most kinky way to get a leg over' competition. I'll make it clear when I explain the challenge. Or maybe we should ask all of them to write down their ideas on paper and give you a chance to veto them beforehand? Would that make you more comfortable?"

"Oh, I think that would spoil the surprise. Let's go with it."

"Very well." Lt. Chandran finished off his glass of wine. If you are ready, I think we can take these glasses with us and return them later. Let's walk."

They strolled back through the camp, taking their time and admiring the stars. The sky had much less light pollution than in London, so there were more stars visible than John was used to seeing. It was a beautiful evening but starting to get chilly, so John was glad when they finally arrived at the heat tent. The cold air on his flushed skin was becoming decidedly unpleasant.

Lt. Chandran held the tent flap open for him, then turned to Ben and Finbar with a little smile. "Clear off, boys. That's it for the dating lesson. I'm sure you've got the idea, so you can go start thinking of what you will do when it is your turn to take John on a date. And if I find you listening outside the tent flap I'll box your ears!"

The other two Marines laughed and left, though John thought he heard Finbar muttering something along the lines of, "It's a tent, yanno, we can hear straight through it…"

Once inside, John had rather expected that they would head straight for the bed, but Lt. Chandran did not seem in a hurry. John peeled out of his jacket as soon as they were inside. His shirt was already starting to stick to his back with his heat sweat. As soon as he did so, he was aware of his pheromones rising and being trapped in the tent. This place would become like a sex sauna fairly soon. The Lieutenant did not seem to notice, or more likely just refrained from commenting. He was pouring another glass of wine for each of them, though he only half filled his own.

John kicked off his shoes, but carefully placed his hat on the bedside table. He bounced a little on his heels to test the floor of the tent. Was it padded? It seemed rather softer than he would have expected. He rummaged in the top drawer of the bedside table. It contained lube, condoms, a box of tissues and a vibrator. Someone had thought of everything.

"Please John, sit down. Join me at the table and let's drop the ranks and titles. More wine?" Chandran gestured to the glass he had poured out.

"You don't need to get me drunk to have your way with me, you know." John replied.

"I know." Chandran smiled easily. "Don't fret, we'll get there. I thought you were looking for a change of pace. 'Slow' would be a change of pace for you, I think."

"It is." John admitted. "It just feels a little… odd, you know? I've never really been courted or taken on dates like this before."

"Forgive me if the question is intrusive, and of course you may choose not to answer, but didn't some Alphas take you on dates when you were in university or before you joined the army?"

"Mmm, a few, yes. But medical students never have any money. The class schedule is very busy with pracs and labs and the contact hours are high, so most of us only work over the summer. Most of my previous dates consisted of coffee and snogging in the park, which is free of course." John shrugged. "It was what everyone else was doing. My internship and residency at St Bart's were mostly shift work – I knew even then that I wanted to be a surgeon and the quickest road is to accept lots of night shifts. Then I went into the army and became a Unit Omega soon after. Somehow after that I never felt the inclination for dating – I guess the Unit Alphas fulfill most of those needs for me."

"Most," agreed Chandran, "but clearly not all. Hmmm, I wonder why the Captain never suggested this to you? I had wondered that you seemed a little tired and tense lately, but I'm neither a doctor nor someone who knows you as well as most here on the unit, so I hesitated to mention it."

"I don't know,' said John, although he suddenly suspected that perhaps he did. The Captain had made it clear that he was not interested in bonding with John, and perhaps a one-on-one dating scenario would be a little too intimate. Perhaps he felt John would make some kind of embarrassing display of sentiment. Well, he need not worry – that was never going to happen. John had his head together now.

"Well, anyway, we're here now," rejoined Chandran brightly. "I hope you enjoyed the wine and the walk?"

"Yes, it was the most romantic thing I've done for… ever really," said John.

"Then perhaps you might like to finish your glass of wine on my lap?" suggested Chandran. "And I'm sure we can think of something to do afterwards…"

John climbed into his lap and breathed warmly in his ear. "I'm ever so grateful for your care of me tonight, sir. How ever can I show you my appreciation? May I kiss you?" Without waiting for a reply, John took a small mouthful of his wine. He leaned in for a kiss, opening his mouth slightly to let the wine trickle across from his mouth into Chandran's. They exchanged a few more kisses and mouthfuls of wine until John was dizzy. He wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or the lack of oxygen. He pulled back for a moment to catch his breath.

Chandran groaned, "Oh John, that tastes so good. Crisp white wine and your sweet Omega taste is just a delightful combination."

"Do I taste sweet? What do I taste like to you?" John asked.

"Vanilla, mostly," said Chandran, "And a trace of something spicy, like chilli."

"Mmmm," murmured John. "Matt used to say my scent reminded him of cinnamon cheesecake."

"I don't like cheesecake, though. And I definitely like you. Oh, John, you smell so good I just want to bite you." Chandran was nuzzling at his neck.

John froze. This was taking intimacy and trust to a whole new level and he wasn't sure he was comfortable with it.

"May I bite you John, please? Not a bond bite, not that deep, just a little mark? I want to taste you to see if you taste as good as you smell."

"OK, I trust you. Just a mark, not a deep bite though."

Chandran didn't answer. He was scenting along John's collarbones and neck. He gently mouthed along John's shoulder before settling on a point about half-way between the base of John's neck and the point of his shoulder. He was well away from the base of the neck, where the bond-bite would usually be made. He leaned forward to access the muscle at the back of the shoulder before biting down firmly. John gasped, but Chandran was careful and did not break the skin. John would have a sizable bruise, but there was no risk of blood and saliva mingling in the amounts needed to form a permanent bond.

"Mine." Chandran was growling. "Mine, and I want to bed you now. May I take you now, John? Fill you and make you completely mine?"

John nodded and leaned his head to rest against Chandran's shoulder. He felt himself being picked up and carried over to the bed. He was laid gently on his back, but he was surprised to find that Chandran did not intend to take him immediately. He leaned over John, positioned conveniently between his legs, but he took care to stroke John's cock several times until the lubrication was pouring out of John in his eagerness.

"I'm ready," murmured John. "Take me now, please, make me yours. Fill me with your seed and knot me all night long."

Chandran groaned wordlessly at this encouragement and slid into John in one long stroke. They were both panting with the intensity of their connection and overwhelming sensation of being together. Then Chandan started to thrust into John, and the friction was delicious. His tip was stroking John's sweet spot deep inside and John's little gasps and whines made them both speed up their movements. They were rutting together fast and hard now, and John made a little rolling motion with his hips that was driving Chandran into a frenzy. He rammed himself into John as hard as he could, determined that John was going to come first.

"Yes, like that, right there," John gritted out between his teeth. "Oh, God, that's so good. Just a little more…" Then John was screaming and spurting all over both of them. The contractions of his body rhythmically gripping Chandran's cock caused him to groan and spill his seed into John's body. They both held still for a moment, enjoying the aftershocks and the feeling of pleasurable pressure as Chandran's knot inflated inside John to hold them together.

"Well…" said John slowly. "I don't usually sleep with someone on the first date. But since we are now knotted I guess _not_ sleeping together isn't really an option."

Chandran chuckled. "I'm very comfortable here, so if it works for you I believe we can come to a very happy arrangement."

"Mmmm," was John's only reply. Then he was asleep.

# # # # # # # # # #

On the fourth evening, as his heat was ending, John stood up at the front of the conference room and raised his hands for silence. "Thank you all for your attention, and for your attentions during my last heat. I have very much enjoyed the last four days." He had to pause for a moment to let the enthusiastic applause die down.

"I will now present the prizes for your innovative dating scenarios! Third prize goes to Finbar for his picnic under the stars and starwatching evening, including a very pleasant episode on the picnic blanket." Everyone whistled and applauded. "I did have to take off a few points because I suspect he got part of his idea from the Lieutenant, but his action plan was flawlessly executed. Well done." Finbar came up to the front of the room, blushing and ducking his head. John gave him a kiss and the bottle of beer that was his prize.

"Second prize goes to Ben, for his DVD and movie night, with popcorn. The first movie wasn't even porn!"

Everyone laughed, and Joe called out, "But I bet the second one was!"

John winked and shrugged. "I wouldn't know, I didn't watch much of it." Which of course just lead to more laughter and applause. Ben came up to collect his kiss and bottle of beer.

"First prize goes to…" John paused dramatically. "Bill! For his massage skills and the most creative use ever of chocolate sauce and almond massage oil!" This time there were interested and speculative looks along with the laughter and applause. "And first prize is… a bottle of beer!" Bill bowed theatrically as he came up and John rewarded him with his prize and a kiss.

"And finally, I would like to thank everyone for your enthusiastic participation in this little game. I have enjoyed it immensely and I hope you all have too. I have felt so appreciated and loved by all of you, I really mean it. Thank you for doing this for me, and going to so much trouble over it. Everyone gets a participation prize! A bottle of beer!" All the rest of the Marines laughed and flooded up to the front of the room to claim a kiss from John and a beer.

When all the Marines in the room had a bottle of beer in hand, there was one bottle left on the table. Before anyone else could note the absence of the Captain, John put down his own bottle and snatched it up. "One more prize, people! For his brilliant idea which lead to lots of interesting events, I would like to award one extra beer to Lt. Chandran for introducing a very exciting new element into our unit! I look forward to doing this again soon!" Everyone clapped this announcement with enthusiasm.

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_This chapter was written because I think even endless kinky multiple partner sex might start to pall after a while. How would someone keep doing that? I think they would need to recharge their emotional batteries somehow. Maybe like this… Agree? Disagree? Please review!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 11.**

_Trigger warning for more war action here, fighting and injuries, not in graphic detail. Sorry, but integral to the story. If you choose to skip this chapter I will once again quickly summarize at the start of the next._

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John was in the loo when his pager went off. "Bloody pager, can't get away from it even here!" He checked the message but most unhelpfully it was just an extension number without a message. "Bloody idiots can't even learn to send a message properly through the computer system. Bloody using the bloody phones again…" he grumbled.

He wandered out to his desk and returned the call, ready to give a right reaming to whoever paged him with just a number and no message. However, the calm greeting at the other end forestalled him.

"Hello Captain Watson. Thank you for returning my call so promptly," said a cool woman's voice.

Shit. It was the RAMC Major on the base, John's direct superior. She only ever called him when there was a problem. She was usually more of an email memo person.

"Major Velovska, what can I do for you?" John said, cautiously.

"There is a bit of a Situation with one of our patrols. I need you to go out there to assist with on the spot evaluation of wounds and to organize the evacuation of the injured."

"That sounds bad. How many injured are there?" John was immediately concerned.

"It was a large manoeuvre, an entire platoon went out. Unfortunately the company medical officer was one of the first to be wounded, so the reports are all coming through the assistant medic who is clearly panicked and unable to manage the triage properly. I need you to go out there and do a proper assessment and make any necessary arrangements."

"Right. I'm on it," returned John without hesitation. "Will I have a driver? And should I take my own assistant medic?"

"That's a very good suggestion, John." The Major sounded unflatteringly surprised that John should have any good ideas. "By all means take your own assistant. The driver will call for you at your sick bay in five minutes. Keep me informed of your progress. Good luck, Captain." She hung up without waiting for his answer.

John had no time to spare. He ran to the computer and sent an urgent message to Bill to meet him at the sick bay immediately. He then grabbed his medical kit and started stuffing in all the painkillers and bandages he could lay his hands on. Sixty men and just him to sort them all out. He would have crossed his fingers that the company Captain was still alive and at least securing the area, but he was too busy to waste fingers on such a forlorn hope.

# # # # # # # # # #

John and Bill arrived at the site to find it was more under control than John's fears had lead him to expect. The ambush had been complete, and both the Captain and the First Lieutenant had been killed in the initial firefight. But the Second Lieutenant and the Senior Sergeant had rallied the survivors of the platoon very effectively and driven off the attacking guerillas. Casualties had been heavy, and with the damage to the vehicles they were pinned down out in the open. It was the kind of situation to make the back of John's neck itchy – he could just about feel rifle sights on his back.

He reported in to the Second Lieutenant, "Captain Watson, medical corps, here to take over triage and medical care, sir!" It felt a bit odd to be calling such a young soldier 'sir' but if he was holding the platoon together and controlling the area every bit of respect was due to him and John was going to bolster his authority in any way he could.

"Lieutenant Cooper, current senior officer. I'm securing the area and calling for transport to complete the evacuation of the wounded, C-Captain." He stumbled over the rank, clearly not used to having a Captain as a subordinate. His glance looked for confirmation that he was doing the right thing, and he seemed reassured by John's subtle nod.

"Captain Watson, please take control of the wounded and triage," he tilted his head towards the centre of the makeshift camp. "I am establishing a perimeter patrol and I hope to have the evacuation under way within the hour. Estimated time to complete evacuation is more than four hours, however, due to the number of wounded and terrain conditions."

John's brow furrowed with worry, but he saluted and said only, "Yes, sir."

# # # # # # # # # #

Three hours later, John straightened up and stretched his back. Triage had been brutal for a while there, but the worst was over and into the next transport would go the last of the non-walking wounded. All things considered, it had gone better than he had expected. Bill had been a treasure, and worth at least three times the other assistant medic. John snorted internally and made a mental note to find out where he had trained and never to go there for medical care.

John scrubbed his hands over his face, hoping futilely to wipe away the weariness and grime. Not long to go, then he could head back to base himself and indulge in a hot shower. He swept his gaze once more around the edge of the camp, absently noting the passing patrols of the perimeter guards. There was one pair in the north, another pair patrolling to the east. The southern team were currently engaged in checking a vehicle about to enter the restricted area. John turned around to check to the west, staring directly into the setting sun. Which was why he did not recognize the attacking force for what it was for a few long moments. By the time he shouted a warning it was far too late.

The guerillas swept in from the west, straight out of the sun, overwhelming the perimeter guards easily. They smashed straight through into the centre of the camp, shooting everything that moved, then retreated as quickly as they had come. Clearly, their plan was to create as much damage as possible in as short a time as practicable. Anyone standing up or moving was a clear target, but they did not bother with those already incapacitated. Which was the only reason John survived.

During the initial attack John had shouted a warning, marking himself as a target. One of the guerillas had carelessly shot from the hip. He had been aiming for the centre of the chest, but the shot had gone slightly wide and taken John in the left shoulder instead. The impact had knocked him to the ground, stunned and bleeding as the rest of the guerillas swept past him and into the centre of the camp.

Bill had heard John's cry and seen him go down. He was quick enough to hit the dirt himself, John's yell had done at least that much good. In a few minutes the attack was over and the guerillas withdrawing. Bill ran to John, already unconscious and bleeding out all over the ground. Bill quickly wrapped a bandage around John's torso and shoulder to control the blood loss. He then threw John over his shoulder and ran for the troop transport. Quickly but gently, he laid John in the last open space and shouted at the driver to gun the engine and get the wounded back to base. Then Bill turned to take over John's work to finish the triage and evacuation of the new group of wounded. He had done his best for John, but could not afford to think further of him now. He needed to use the skills John had taught him to do the work as John would want it done.

# # # # # # # # # #

As the troop transports rolled into the base they were directed straight to the theatre complex. John's pre-assessments of the wounded made everything orderly, though not straightforward. Only John himself arrived without a triage category and tag. Some minutes were lost in working out who he was and who should be told about him. In the absence of any members of his unit, Major Velovska was informed of the injury and need for surgery on a certain Captain John Watson. She signed the surgical consent form without looking at it, and John was taken into the operating theatre, still unconscious.

# # # # # # # # # #

Bill came back to base with the last troop transport, escorting the final group of wounded. As soon as the base medics arrived to take responsibility for the patients Bill set off at a run for Captain Spier's office. He threw himself through the door without the formality of knocking.

"How is John?" he demanded.

Captain Spiers looked up from his endless paperwork, immediately attentive. "What do you mean? Wasn't he was with you?"

Bill's mouth dropped open. "You didn't know? He was shot and returned to base about two hours ago."

Captain Spiers turned pale, then red. "Let's go. You can brief me on the way to the surgical suite."

They left the office and set a double pace march for the hospital. On arrival, Captain Spiers lit a fire under the tail of the unfortunate Corporal at the desk of the surgical suite to find Captain John Watson and report on his status right now, dammit! John was quickly discovered to be out of surgery and in the recovery bay.

Captain Spiers marched straight into the recovery bay, overriding the feeble protests of the Corporal that he needed to change into theatre greens and that it isn't permitted to just walk in there, sir! The Captain swept past and into the recovery area which was full of people in various states of awareness as they came out of anaesthesia.

Bill spotted John first, in Bay Four. He must have only recently come out of the operating theatre, as he was still unconscious and a nurse was sitting by his bedside closely monitoring his breathing.

"He's over there, sir. Still asleep, I think." Bill waved towards Bay Four.

"Thank God for that. At least he didn't wake up alone,' muttered Captain Spiers as he strode over to John's bedside. He leaned over the bed and took John's right hand in his own, careful not to jostle the cannula in the back of John's hand. Only then did he turn to introduce himself to the nurse hovering uncertainly at the other side of the bed.

"Captain Peter Spiers, I'm John's unit Captain. How is he?"

"Sir, he sustained a gunshot wound to the left upper chest and shoulder. The bullet was successfully retrieved and the contaminants removed from the wound but there was significant trauma to the shoulder and brachial plexus. After a few weeks of rehab and exercises we will know how much function he will retain in that arm." The nurse looked down at him with pity in her eyes. "He's lucky it was his left shoulder and arm, really. Otherwise an injury like this would be the end of his career."

Captain Spiers sat down suddenly, managing not to lose contact with John's hand. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and glared at the nurse. "How much rehab until we know what use he will have of the arm?"

Bill added from over his shoulder, "He's left-handed, you see."

The nurse looked like she wanted to bite her tongue. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I think six to eight weeks would do it, but be aware we do not have the necessary rehab facilities here on the base. He'll need to be transferred out. Under the circumstances, it might be best if he was sent home to complete his rehab back in England. Then, if it doesn't go well…" she shrugged, not wanting to spell it out. "He would already be home and surrounded by his family and friends."

Captain Spiers rested his forehead on the rail of the bed and closed his eyes. "I always knew I'd lose you one day, but not like this…"

Bill leaned down to hear better. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't quite catch that."

Captain Spiers straightened up and opened his eyes, "Never mind. Find Lt. Chandran and tell him to organize a roster for the next five days. I want someone with John every minute while he is here. We will stand by him, night and day, right up until he boards the plane for home. And divert my pager to him as well. I'm staying with John until he wakes up."

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_Please review!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Her Majesty's Secret Service Chapter 12.**

_For those who skipped the last chapter, John was wounded in action. He was shot in the left shoulder and carried unconscious from the field by Bill. We resume as he wakes up after surgery…_

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John slowly swam up from blackness to semi-consciousness. He heard voices he had trouble recognizing talking around and over him.

"He's coming around now, but he's still pretty out of it."

_You got that right_, John thought to himself but he was unable to make any sign to the voices.

"I think it would be best if the Captain broke the news to him."

"We'll have someone with him from now until…"

"Good idea. Thanks for organizing that."

"The guys all wanted to be here. The hard part was writing the roster to give everyone a ch…"

John finally managed to make a noise. The voices stopped talking to each other. One of them leaned in close to talk to him. "Are you in any pain, John?"

As soon as the voice drew his attention to it, he realized that his left shoulder was red bleeding agony which stabbed him through the chest every time he breathed.

"Ugh…" he managed, and paid the price for that small noise with more pain racking his body.

The voice seemed to understand, as he felt a cold liquid being injected into the back of his right hand, then the blackness swept over him again.

# # # # # # # # # #

He was running across a desert, being chased by a terrorist with a gun. He was running, but he looked down and saw that his leg was broken. Daniel was running beside him, saying "I did it, you can do it too." But he couldn't. He fell and the pain in his shoulder was immense and he couldn't run anymore…

Then the guerilla fighter was standing over him and he was Jack and he was about to be shot in the head…

Darkness took him again, and this time it was a relief.

# # # # # # # # # #

John became aware of his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. It took him two tries to make a noise, but somehow he knew there was someone else in the room. If only he could make a sound, maybe the someone would bring him water? Ah, yes. He could hear someone moving, probably leaning over his bed. He tried to pry open his gummy eyes, but whimpered as the bright light stabbed into his head. He closed them again.

"John?" He thought the voice might be Joe's. "John? Water?"

It was definitely Joe. He felt a straw being held to his lips and he sucked the water down gratefully. Christ, his lips were dry. How long had he been unconscious?

"John, can you open your eyes?"

He wondered why Joe sounded so worried. Of course he could open his eyes, only the light was so bright he didn't really want to.

"John, please open your eyes." Joe sounded like he was begging, so John did his best to oblige.

The room was white, the sheets were white. A hospital room then. John blinked hard and tried to focus. Yes, that was Joe, looking rather rumpled and non-regulation. Unusual. He also looked rather tired and stressed. There was a discarded rifle magazine on the table. How long had Joe been waiting for him to wake up? Several hours, at least, by the look of it.

Joe leaned over and pressed the buzzer for the nurse, then focused again on John. "Three Continents Watson! Good to have you back. We thought for a while you might be going somewhere without us."

John searched his memory. Three Continents Watson. It was a joke name, and he needed to remember the correct response. Ah, yes, there it was.

"Little John" he whispered, and was surprised when Joe burst into tears.

# # # # # # # # # #

Later that day Captain Spiers and Dr Aasif stood formally at the end of John's bed, both of them in postures that radiated discomfort. Bill had been reading to John when they arrived, so he also stayed.

Dr Aasif pasted on a smile and said, "Captain Watson, good to have you back."

John coughed and cleared his throat. "Yes, everyone keeps saying that, but no-one has given me a straight answer as to why. How long was I unconscious anyway?"

Dr Aasif replied, "You were brought from the field unconscious and required four units of blood to be transfused during surgery. Getting out the bullet was the easy part. The hard part was cleaning out the bits of uniform and half the sand in the desert which had been rubbed into the wound."

Bill made a noise of protest.

Dr Aasif waved away the objection, "Oh, I know, it was a messy situation and everyone did their best. But the fact of the matter is that it was a heavily contaminated wound and it has been badly infected. We've been pumping you full of antibiotics for over a week now, so I'm glad to see you are finally in your right mind again."

"A week?" gasped John.

"Eight days, actually," replied Dr Aasif. "Three in intensive care, another five in this isolation room. We've been pretty worried about you. You've been febrile and delirious for most of it, so I'm not surprised you don't remember."

"But… But I'm going to be OK now? I'm better now, aren't I?" John looked to Dr Aasif for confirmation, but he wasn't meeting John's eyes.

"John, you very nearly died. If that bullet had been a few centimetres lower it would have been in your heart and even Bill's heroic efforts to get you back would have done no good."

John clenched his right fist, but the left only twitched, and John realized he already knew what Dr Aasif was going to say.

"There was major injury to the brachial nerve plexus. I'm not sure how much function you are going to get back in your left hand. Now that you are awake we can begin to assess how much sensation and muscle movement you are going to have."

John gritted his teeth. "You mean that after intensive physio I might be able to zip my own trousers, is that it? Christ, I can't feel anything in that hand at all!" John started hyperventilating. Bill tried to put his hand on John's good shoulder, but was shrugged off angrily.

"This is the end of my career in the army, the end of my hopes of being a civilian surgeon even! Bloody hell, I might not even be able to be a doctor at all if I can't write or anything. Oh, my God, I'm going to be discharged and sent home to _rot_, aren't I?"

Captain Spiers put his hand out placatingly, "John, please try to stay calm."

"Stay calm! This is the end of my life and you know it! You've probably already requested another medic to replace me in the unit, haven't you?"

Captain Spiers looked dismayed. "John, it's not like that. It has been over a week and we didn't know how long you would be out of action. I had to make sure the unit has a new medic for when we move out."

"Who is it? Is it someone I know?"

Captain Spiers lifted his chin. "It isn't necessary for you to hear all the details. I think it will just upset you."

John narrowed his eyes. "Is it another _Omega_?"

Captain Spiers sighed. "If you must know, yes. Captain Kate Simpson is flying across to join us from the peacekeeping force in Egypt."

John did some calculations in his head. "You've already got orders cut to move, haven't you?"

Captain Spiers nodded. "Two days. She arrives tomorrow and we move out the day after. John, I'm sorry."

"Not half as sorry as I am." John lay back on his pillows and sighed at the ceiling. "All right, give me the rest of the bad news. What is going to happen to me now?"

Dr Aasif cleared his throat and resumed speaking, "John, you need at least six to eight weeks of rehabilitation and physiotherapy before we will know how much function you will regain in your left arm. Of course, as an army veteran you will be entitled to receive the best care available. Unfortunately, that will mean sending you back to England…"

"A _veteran_?" John interrupted. "So I _am_ being discharged because of this? Even before the rehab is complete?"

Dr Aasif was avoiding John's eyes. "John, it was your dominant hand that was injured. Given the nature of the nerve damage, even the best case scenario does not include resuming your work with the medical corps. I understand they are contemplating giving you a medal, for being wounded in action."

John snorted. "Great. A piece of metal to hang on my jacket to explain why I was sent home. Just what I fucking wanted for Christmas."

Captain Spiers looked closely at John, and realized that he had had as much as he could take for one day. He jerked his head towards the door, and Bill and Dr Aasif made a hasty exit.

Captain Spiers took Bill's seat by John's bedside. John refused to look at him.

Finally, John broke the silence with bitter recriminations. "I can't believe you replaced me while I was unconscious. You went through the available personnel files and chose someone to replace me while I was fucking unconscious! Did you wait until I was off the operating table, or did you start looking at prospective Omegas as soon as you heard I'd been wounded and wouldn't be a pretty piece of tail anymore?"

Captain Spiers gasped as if John had slapped him. "That's not fair, you know it isn't. The unit needs a medic urgently and, as you know, this unit operates well with an Omega in the team. One was available, so I asked for her to be assigned here. If you recover, you can request reassignment back here and I'll support any such application."

"Ha. A safe offer, since we both know that isn't going to happen."

"John. Is this about your career in the RAMC, or about what you mean to us personally?" Captain Spiers spoke softly. "Your career has been exemplary, you will get a medal for this and an honourable discharge. Your army pension will be generous and you will be medically provided for as long as you need medical care, of any kind."

John finally turned his face to Captain Spiers, but his tortured eyes almost made the Captain wish he hadn't. "No, that's not what is bothering me. Am I going to be so easily replaced? I'm gone less than a week and already you've found someone else to warm your bed – is that all I am to you? Just another Omega in a long line of pleasant memories?"

Captain Spiers reached over and stroked John's cheek with a fingertip. "You have no idea that you broke my heart and spoiled me for any other Omega, do you?"

John gaped at him. "_I_ broke _your_ heart? I think you got that backwards."

Captain Spiers gave a painful little smile. "No, I said then and I repeat now that you never really loved _me_. You loved the idea of being bonded to one Alpha but honestly now, it could just as easily have been Bill or Matt or Chandran, couldn't it?"

John shrugged but declined to answer the question.

The Captain continued, "But you were on your knees in front of me, begging me with tears in your eyes to bond with you. You were so beautiful, you still are, and young and dynamic and I could hardly believe that you were asking me, an old soldier, to bond with you. It took every grain of self-control I ever possessed to refuse you. And I never came to you alone in your heats after that, I always brought another member of the unit. I was so afraid I would forget myself and ask you to bond with me after all."

"Why?" cried John. "Would bonding me have been so terrible?"

"No, it would have been glorious and I would have loved and pleased you as much as I could for as long as I could." Captain Spiers paused for a moment and shook his head. "But it wouldn't have been enough for you. You would have grown tired of this life, tired of the army and tired of me. You would have grown to hate me, and hate the cage I had put you in by bonding you. John, I loved you too much to bond you and keep you with me. I wanted to, so very much, but I didn't want you to hate me. I knew you would need to leave us one day, and I wanted it to be without guilt or broken promises for either of us."

There was silence in the room for a moment. Then John asked, "This new Omega, what is she like?"

Captain Spiers spoke quietly, "For all our sakes, I looked for someone different from you. It will be hard enough for her to step into this position without constant comparison with you. She's a female Omega, tall and red-headed with an Irish background, I believe. She's about ten years older than you and has served as a Unit Omega before, so she knows what she's getting into."

John digested this information slowly. "Very well, I accept her as my replacement. I trust she will look after you all now that I'm… going away."

Captain Spiers reached over and clasped John's right hand in his. "John, this is an opportunity for you. Go back to England with hope – you still have your whole life before you, with useful work to do and your own Alpha to find. I have no doubt there is an Alpha out there for you who will bond you and make you whole and happy in a way that our unit and army life never could. Look for someone who will heal you and love you for everything that you are." Captain Spiers winked at John. "And when you find him, tell him I hate him, the jammy bastard."

John punched him weakly in the arm. "That's my future husband you're talking about. Get out of here already. Don't you have someone to go bust down to Private?"

Captain Spiers stood up, "Sure do. I'll go take care of that, you take care of yourself." It was incorrect military courtesy, but he saluted John before he left anyway.

# # # # # # # # # #

In the last days before they all departed, every member of the unit came past John's room to say their goodbyes in their own particular ways. Lt Chandran was serious and formal, Ben made a stand-up comedy routine, Bill was earnest, and everyone told John that no-one would ever forget him. Even Captain Kate Simpson came by to meet him and shake his hand before the unit left.

Then it was John's turn to leave. He packed up his regulation duffle bag and boarded his flight back to England. On the plane, he turned his back to the other soldiers celebrating their home leaves. Their happiness to be going home was only because they knew they would be coming back. He had no such return to look forward to. His life was moving on to a new and bleaker place. Nothing could ever replace his unit in his heart. Nothing could ever replace his career in the RAMC and as a Unit Omega. Nothing worth living for would ever happen to him again. He turned his face to the window and watched the base recede until it was blurred either by distance or by all the salt water standing in his eyes.

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_Poor John! Hang in there, the next chapter is coming soon! Please review!_


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